



MNCELINE R. FULLER. 



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BY 



ANGELINE A. FULLER. 



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DETROIT, MICH.><->..: C ^.^ 

J. N. WILLIAMS, 673 MICHIGAN AVENUE. 
1883. 



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COPYRIGHT, 1S8S, 

BY 

ANGELINE A. FULLER. 



TO THE READER. 

Some of the following poems were com- 
posed diirino: seasons of eye trouble, so severe 
that blindness seemed inevitable, and were car- 
ried in memory until a respite permitted their 
commitment to paper; others were produced 
on very short notice, in response to official re- 
quest, privately made, or were arranged at 
leisure, in obedience to public vote, for assem- 
blao:es of the Deaf and Dumb, a class whose 
position and experience is largely more prosy 
than poetical. These, with others composed 
under less embarassing circumstances, are now 
submitted to the reading public, with much 
regret for all imperfections, and an earnest 
wish that, despite defects, they may aid in 
furthering the educational interests of the sev- 
eral classes mentioned in some of them. 

A. A. F. 

August, 1883. 



CONTENTS. 



POEMS OF TFTE DEAF AND DUMB. 

Scenes in the Hfstoiiy op the Deaf and Dumb, 9 

commemouative, - - - - - 27 

The Deaf-Mu IE Ai.umni Reunion, - - 34 

To Whom is Honok Due ? - - - - 39 

Opening H^ mn for a Deaf-Mute Convektion, 42 

Closing Hymn For Same, - - - - 43 

Ac!U)STic Verses, - - - - - 45 

To a Deaf- Mute Foreigner, . . . . 4,ii 

To A Hebrew Deaf Mu IE, - - - - 48 

Hymn for the Unveiling op a Memorial Tablet, 51 

Hymx for the Dkdication of a Chapel, - 55 

To a Deaf-Mute Lady, - - - - - 56 

The March of Progress, .... 59 

The Blind Deaf-Mute, ----- 65 

A Strange Half-Century, . . . . 67 

A Challenge, - - - ... - 71 

TEMPERANCE POEMS. 

The Whisky -Jug's Revelation, - - - 75 

The Pleasant Glass, ..... 75 

A Pi-ea, -* 77 

Help the Drunkard to Reform, - - - 78 

For God and Humanity, .... 80 



THE UENTURE. 



LOCAL POEMS. 



Parental Lament on the Detxts of Twin I'oys, 86 

Our Fkiend, ...... 88 

InRemembkance, - - - - - 89 

The Early Dead, - - - - 92 

Suggestions, --.-.. 93 

Parents' Treasures, - -. - - - 94 

The Dead Mo 1 her, . . . - . 95 

To Mothers, ..... 96 

On the Death of a Cheld, . . . . V)7 

A Lesson From Flowehs, - - - - 98 

The Old Grave Digger, - - ' - - 101 

SONGS AND HYMNS. 

Music all Around Us, .... 104 

A Centennial Hymn, - - - - - 105 

To-day and Tomoukow. . . . . 108 

God is Good and God ts Love, .... 109 

The SriLLrxG OF Till-: Tempest, - - - 110 

A Song OF Exultation, - - - - - 111 

A Request, - - - - - - 118 

A Thanksgiving Hymn, - - - - - 114 

A Dollar OR Two, - - - - - 115 

Count the Cost, - - - - - - 117 

When We Forgive, - - - - - 119 

Land Ahead, ...... 120 

Bear and Forbear, . . . . . 121 

Try to be Happy, - - - - - 132 

We Shall Meet Again, . . . . 124 

Truih Shall Triumph, ... - . 126 

Lights Along the Shore, . . . . 127 

The Aged Christian's Testimony, - - - 139 

God and OuiisELViis, - - - - - 130 



6 THE UENTURE. 

A Wedding Song, --.... 132 

Makk Fi-owers Youu Friends, - - - 1^3 

Reflections on Readfng the Fouty-Sixth Psalm, 1H4 

We Nkkd Nor Sit Wi'iH FoLimD Hands, - - 185 

Here and There, - - - - - - 137 

TuusT IN God Always, .... 138 

The Will of God, - - - - - 139 

A Song Sugge<tp:d by a Song, - - - 141 

Nothing is Lost, - - - -~ - - 142 

The Voyagh: of Life, . - . . . 145 

Sweet Memory Bells. . . . - . 146 

Not Forevkr, - - - - - - 148 

Ask Mh: Nor to Drink, . - . . . 149 

A Song for the " AL\ke Home Happy" Army, - 151 

Love and Flow k us, . . . . . 153 

The Fikst Alarm, .... - I55 

The Conflagration, -" - - - - 156 

MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

The Worth of Prayer, - - - - - 116 

God's Patience and God's People, - - 169 

A Story and a Sermon, . . . - . 174 

Woman's Mission AND Woman's Work, - - 179 

Thk Menagerie, . . . . - 182 

Wonderings, - - - - - - 188 

City Trees, ...... 184 

Labor and Capital, - - - - - 186 

Natal Bells, ...... 137 

A Bit Of Blank Verse, - - - - 191 

The Copy. - ..... 193 

The One Name, - - - - - 195 

A Protest. - 198 

Friendship. ...... 199 



THE UENTURE. 7 

The Value of a Soul, . . . . . oQO 

A Proofof Immoutality, - - - - 2)1 

Finished Wohk, -.-... 203 
A Soliloquy, ..... 203 

What I Would Do, - - - - - 206 

When I Shall Be Satisfied, - - - 209 

Bring Flowers, - - - - - - 210 

Good and Better, - - - - 212 

A Little While, - - - - - 218 

Lines for a Youkg Lady's Album. - - 21 o 

Counsel FOR the Teoub: ED, - - •- - 216 

LiFi^: IS Like the Weathek, - - - 217 

No Adverse Change Beyond the Grave, - - 220 

True Rest, - - - - - - 221 

Thanksgiving Lines, _ . . . . 222 

The Bible, -.--.. £23 

Where is Cliffie ? . . . . . . 224 

To A New-Born Infant. . . . . 228 

To Mary on Hek Wedding Day, - - - 2.0 

After the Wedding, - - - - 231 



POEMS OF THE DEAF AND 

DUMB. 



SCENES IN THE HISTORY OF THE DEAF 
AND DUMB. 

SCENE FIRST. 

Behold a miracle! a bush on fire, 

Burning intensely, burning unconsumed, 
Note how the flames rise higher and yet higher, 

And all the air around is high perfumed, 
With odors richer far than any flower 

Exhales at day^s first dawning, when the Sun 
Drinks up the dew-drops and goes forth in power. 

His daily journey leisurely to run. 
To carry from the land of song and star 

Brio^htness and warmth into the west afar. 

Note further that each wave of perfumed light 

Shimmers and shines as tho' the sun and moon 
And all the stars of heaven, most fair and bright 

With all their fc-rce of midnight and of noon, 
Were multiplied ten thousand thousand times. 

And then ten thousand times ten thousand more, 
Until the number aggregates or climbs 

Past computation's limit, mete or score; 



10 THE UENTURE. 

Aye^ multiplied so brightly that it seems 
Earth's every jewel in one casket gleams. 

Well may the air be sweet, well may is shine 

With wondrous radiance, such as was not seen 
Ever before, for power we know Divine 

Has touched that busli, erewhile so low, so mean, 
A common thing, from which each passing brute 

Might browse at pleasure, or by well-aimed blow 
Break, nevermore to leaf or bloom or fruit. 

Or thrive beneath the sun's most genial glow, 
A bash to be, by any strong man doomed, 

Uprooted, or by common fire consumed. 

And see, near this vast pile of earth and rock 

Known as Mount Horeb, Moses wends his way 
Intent upon the pasture of his flock. 

Intent on keeping evil beast at bay. 
Thinking, perchance, of Egypt and the sin 

Of sore oppression he had witnessed there, 
Until his soul revolted, and from kin 

He fled, unable more to see or bear. 
Fled all alone, in horror and in grief, 

To find with Strang jrs comfort and relief. 

Behold his wonder when at first the sight 
So wholly marv'lous, ^o unparalled, 



THE UENTURE. n 

That it would fill a common soul with fright, 

And even him in speechless wonder held 
For a brief while, then shaking off all fear, 

Of harm or danger, he right bravely cries, 
^^Not burnt, strange, very strange, I will draw near 

To see this fire which flickers not nor dies, 
But blazes on, surpassing everything 

Of which historians talk or poets sing." 

But harken now, for scarcely has his word 

Of firm decision echoed on the air, 
Or his broad breast, within so deeply stirred. 

Drawn breath, more of the thrilling sight to bear, 
When from the bush there emanates a sound, 

A voice that thrills him to his bping's core. 
And bends his soul in homage more profound 

Than any voice had ever done before. 
As it commanded, " Nay, do not draw near, 

Take ofPthy shoes, the ground is holy here." 

Having responded promptly :to his name 

In the brave words of Abraham, "Here am I," 

And bared his feet before the curious flame 
Which while it rose so brilliantly, so high, 

Made the whole plain a consecrated place 
Henceforth, forevermore, while time endures, 

A spot historian's pan would sometimes trace. 



12 THE UENTURE. 

And venturous travMers visit in their tours, 
A spot to prove till earth and time shall end 
That our Creator also is our friend. 

Fitting it was the astonished man should hide 

His face in awe and listen in a maze 
Of humble, solemn joy that he, denied 

Awhile the right to walk earth's peopled ways, 
Might in the lonely desert meet his Lord, 

And learn from His own lips that He gave heed 
To all His children's wrongs, and would accord 

Judgment to their oppressors, and would lead 
Them forth in triumph to a better land, 

Where peace and plenty smile on every hand. 

'Twas further fitting that he should reply : 

'^I hear Thy words, and I would gladly go 
Unto Thy people, who in anguish cry. 

Yea, I to them Thy promises would show, 
But who am I that I should be so blest. 

So honored? Thou hast others fitter far 
To lead Thy children to their longed-for rest, 

Send them to be a guide, a morning star. 
To those to whom Thy pledge was long since given 

Of Thy best favors granted this side Heaven. 

"Yea, I would gladly go, but much I fear 

That tho' they long have prayed, are praying now, 



THE UENTURE. 13 

For a deliverer, or for hope to cheer 

Their hearts, until it please Thee to allow 
Their servitude so very long and great 

Entirely and forever more to cease, 
And lead them forth unto their own estate, 

Their promised land of liberty and peace, 
Me for their leader they will not receive, 

Nor that Thou sendest me at all believe/' 

Quickly the Lord whose glory made the place 

So wonderful, made answ^er : " Do not fear 
To do my bidding, I will give thee grace 

For all the way that seems so long and drear. 
Haste, bravely ha^te upon thine honored way, 

Bid the proud tyrant set my people free, 
Go without fear of evil night or day, 

For I — certainly I — will go with thee, 
To end the long, dark night of cruel woe, 

And to their rest my chosen people show," 

Meekly again the favored man replied: 

*'I am not eloquent, but slow of speech, 
Is there no other better qualified 

Thy chosen people to lead forth and teach? 
I have no lack of love for Thine nor Thee, 

But he should have the power quickly to sway 
The people's minds who dares a guide to be, 



U TEE EENTURE, 

Or Thj commands befor3 them seeks to lay; 
And since my speech is poor, my tongue is slow. 
Choose a more fitting guide, and bid him go/' 

Brighter, far brighter then, glowed the strange fire, 

Shimmered more grandly, every twig and leaf — 
Higher the flames rose upward, and yet higher ; 

A pause ensued — a silence deep, but brief — 
And then the Lord by questions made reply : 
'^Who made man's mouth? who made the deaf 
and dumb? 
Say, did not I, the Lord? and cannot I 

In any time of need bid words to come? 
Fear not, for surely I Avill go with thee, 

I, the I AM, thy help, thy guide will be. 

" But since thou art so diffident, so meek. 

Behold thy brother, Aaron, he shall be 
To thee a mouth, and through him thou shalt speak 

Whatev^er I communicate to thee. 
Fear neither king nor people, Lo ! the rod 

Thou boldest now, and even thine own hand 
Shall henceforth be a sign that I, the God 

Of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, ail, command^ 
Anoint, appoint and full commission thee 

To lead my captives forth to liberty. 



THE UENTURE. 15 

SCENE SECOND. 

Right well the Promiser His promise kept, 

And with wise words in every hour of need, 
Filled each old prophet's mouth, and Israel slept 

Or waked or journeyed, as His word decreed, 
Until at last they gained the promised land. 

And safely dwelt, blessing and being blest. 
Till, seeing thev to evil gave a hand. 

Affliction entered in, their faith to test. 
And teach that God is ever watching near. 

And notes all lack of love or trust or fear. 

Then when they cried for help, wise prophets came. 

Telling them of a time, a happy day, 
When by repentance they again could claim 

Muoh they possessed before they went astray, 
Saying the lame should sometime nimbly leap. 

The blind should see with strong and perfect eyes, 
The deaf hear plainly, and joy yet more deep. 

The dumb, no longer dumb, return replies. 
And every age should know and should declare, 

God for the suffering has a special care. 

And while the years went by, the wondrous years, 

Working their chancres great and manifold, 
Men nursed high hopes, or sadly talked of fears, 



16 THE FENTURE. 

Prayed, toiled and strov^e for bread, for land and 
^ gold, 

And as their fancy or their means decreed, 

They builded temples in which Science, Art, 
Religion, Learning, each could garner seed, 

Of which all devotees could take a part, 
And carry forth to strcAV with generous hand. 

Broadcast, to bless and beautify the land. 

Aye, more, they builded Homes, wherein the lame. 

The sick, ihe weak, could find a place of rest. 
When those who were their friends only in name, 

Forsook them, left them helpless and distressed ; 
Homes, into which the suffering ones could go, 

Until the storm of trouble should pass by. 
Or they could drink their mingled cup of woe, 

And calmly, quietly lie down to die. 
Aye, for all such every enlightened age 

Left a fair record upon historic page. 

But tho' the Lord so plainly had declared 

That He, himself had made the deaf and dumb, 

And had His word of honor pledged. He cared 
For each, for all of them, and gave them some 

Portion and share and interest due, and claim. 
In every right or privilege of the age, 

In which they lived, rights dear even in name, 



THE UENTURE. 17 

Alike to the uncultured and the sage — 
Aye, gave them of all these a liberal share, 
And cared for them with loving father care. 

They were passed by, neglected, doomed to scorn, 

Considered brainless, soulless, useless things, 
Men even cursed the house where such wxre born, 

And wounded them with worse than scorpion 
stings ; 
Grudged them their food, even grudged them light 
and air, 

And took their life, without regret or shame. 
As if their cry for help — their dying prayer 

For justice could not — would not — -have a claim 
In Heaven^s high courts, as if the Lord had not 

Vowed care for them, or had his vow forgot. 

SCENE THIRD. 

Haste with me now across the bridge that spans 

The gulf of centuries and with me behold 
Another miracle, angelic bands 

Filling the eastern horizon, their harps of gold 
Echoing sweetest music, and they sing 

A song ne'er heard by sin-marked men before — 
O, blessed song — earth has at last a King — 
" Peace and good will V^ Hate, give thy warfare 
oe'r : 



18 THE UENTURE, 

Man need no longer live to sin a slave — 
Immaxual comes to mediate and save. 

Proper it was^ a new, a brilliant star 

Should rise upon that blessed, blessed morn — 
Rise to proclaim to earth both near and far. 

The glorious tidings that at last was born 
The true Messiah, who would break the night — 

The long, dark night of fear which sin had Avrought, 
Bring immortality and Heaven to light, - 

By pure, redeeming love, passing all thought, 
In measure so immense, no word but so 

Its height nor depth nor length nor breadth can 
show. 

A king who comes in pride and pomp to reign 

May look unpityingly on others' grief, 
And leave the sufferers to endure their pain 

Till in death's slumbers they can find relief; 
But He, the King of Glory, could not go 

Past suffering thus. His mission was to heal 
Whom sin had wounded, and by deeds to show 

Where'er He went since He might not conceal 
That in the form of weak humanity 

He held the power of true divinity. 



THE UENTURE, 19 

Therefore he helped the weak — the hungry fed, — 

Let palsied captives from their bondage go — 
He healed the sick — called back to life the dead, 

And bade the mourners' tears no longer flow; 
He touched blind eyes, and lo I they clearly see ; 

He said EphpJiatlia to the lips long dumb, 
Applied to silent ears the mystic key 

Of firm command, and bade sweet echoes come, 
Then left the happy throngs their joy to tell 

In grateful praise — " He doeth all things well." 

O, favored eyes,^ that opening to the light 

Looked first upon their Saviour ; doubly dear, 
O, favored ears, that waking from a night 

Of utter silence, first of sounds could hear 
The Master's voice, and with the lips long dumb 

Speak first to Him, and thank Him for His love. 
That matchless love, which prompted Him to come 

From all the glory of His home above 
To take from death its sting, the grave its gloom, 

And save the sinful from their righteous doom. 

SCENE FOUETH. 

Again haste with me o'er the bridge of time, 

See, we stand now upon our native soil ; 
It is the hour for vesper bells to chime, 



20 THE UENTURE. 

The hour when men can rest awhile from toil. 
When children love on grassy plats to play, 

See, there a group is busy at a game; 
And there, apart from them a little way, 

Stands one w4io will not answer to her name. 
However loudly they may bid her come, 

For slie, alas ! is deaf — is deaf and dumb ! 

Has God no pity for the stricken child ? 

Does He not care that she is so alone?. 
Will He not heed her wish^ her anxious prayer 

Which she can utter only in a moan ? 
O, question not, O, question not — He cares, 

He loves the stricken one^ and even now 
Counts over all her tears and voiceless prayers 

For a deliverer, let us meekly bow, 
Our heads in reverent awe and drop a tear 

Of thankful joy that help at last is near. 

She is no common-fated, short-lived one, 

No pretty picture upon which to gaze 
A little while, then toss aside or shun 

For grander things ; where'er her pathway lays 
Her name in history's page henceforth will fill 

An honored place, as sure as Justice weighs 
True merit. Doubt and fear be still, be still. 

Though nothing now the embryo fact betrays, 



THE I/ENTURE. 21 

A gratefulj happy girl is waiting here, 
A woman famous for all time is near. 

And help is coming, tho' she knows it not, 

Xear by a student, weary with his book, 
Lays it aside and saunters to the spot, 

Awhile upon the merry group to look ; 
And now his eye, his Heaven- directed eye, 

Rests on the silent, isolated one, 
I^ook ! hark ! he heaves a sympathizing sigh. 

And questions earnestly — ^'Can naught be done 
To set her captive thoughts and feelings free 

And give her mind its natural liberty?" 

Surely an angel must have told the child 

He was no common man for her to fear; 
Look, she upon his first advance has smiled. 

And shakes her head, meaning, " I can not hear," 
Alas, poor child ; others can say the same. 

Like you, to Heaven for help they long have cried. 
And God at last acknowledges their claim. 

And sets the door of mercy open wide ; 
But he who longs to teach you first must turn 

To sunny France, a method there to learn. 

For there the Abbe de I'Eppe waits 

To teach by graceful movements of the hands 



22 THE I/ENTURE. 

A way which will, despite each one Avho prates 

Against it, break effectually the bands 
Which have so long held dormant precious powers, 

And doomed full many a noble heart and mind 
To idle days, to lonely wretched hours, 

To ignorance and all its ills combined, 
Waits now, surrounded by a little group, 

The heralds of a vast, exultant troop. 

O, blessed, truly blessed, ^ire the hours 

When looking down upon His suffering ones, 
God notes their sorrows and their fettered powers, 

Xotes how ao;:ainst them time's strono; current runs, 
Notes till His father heart can bear no more. 

And cries ^^ Enough," and bids deliverance speed 
To compass land and sea, nor once give o'er 

Their searching for relief till they are freed 
Who cry for help. Such hours are highly blest 

And are of gratitude the constant test. 

SCENE FIFTH. 

Love is a wondrous leveller indeed; 

The old and young turn twins at its command; 
And aliens, at any time, by it decreed, 

Though ears be deaf, and lips be wholly dumb, 
Ey es say in tones most sweetly eloquent. 



THE UENTURE. 23 

"Fear not, sweet heart, for I will surely come, 
Yes we, God willing, will clasp hands again ; 

A little while our paths must lie apart, 
And till I come, good-bye, fear not, sweet heart/' 

And though the absence be prolonged for years. 

The kind "God bless you, we again shall meet V^ 
The anxious, waiting heart sustains and cheers, 

While faith and hope the assuring words repeat. 
And fancy, at its pleasure, gaily builds 

Air-castles most magnificiently grand; 
Or fond anticipation brightly gilds 

The blessed sometime, when they two shall stand 
Together, who, though bound in mind and heart 

By sympathy, awhile must walk apart. 

Surely, O, surely, many an angel band 

Hovered about the honored ship that bore 
That noble student from his native land 

On his grand mission; surely, too, before. 
Aye, with, and after him, God's blessing went; 

And he was kindly guided, day by day. 
Favored and prospered, and was duly sent 

Proudly rejoicing on his homeward way. 
Bringing a brother helper, 'round whose name 

Justice would sometime twine a wreath of fa n ( 



24 - THE UENTURE, 

And just as surely angels hovered near 

That stricken girl, whose isolated state 
Challenged that good man^s pity, till all fear 

Of danger or of failure, small or great, 
Was cast aside, and very often they 

Fed her with hopes — sweet manna of the soul — 
Or showed her pictures of that happy day 

When from her life the heavy cross should roll 
And she, with fervent, grateful joy elate 

Could pr(»mise others freedom yet more great. 

SCENE SIXTH. 

A ship is slowly sailing into port. 

Fire a salute, let all the land be glad. 
Proclaim a gala day of rest and sport. 

Sing thankful songs till not a heart is sad. 
Call that poor stricken girl, a maiden now. 

Bid her with grateful kiss of welcome haste 
To meet him ; bid her make a solemn vow 

Ever to keep his name in memory traced; 
Ever to honor him who holds a key 

That soon will set her captive senses free. 

Nor hers alone — give God his dues of praise, 
His mercy is not narrow in its scope. 

He sets no favored few near joy's warm blaze 
Leaving the many in cold gloom to grope, 



THE UENTURE, 25 

He hears, He heeds each dumb child's eager prayer, 
And from their lonely, isolated wolds 

Will in His own good time, witli loving care, 
Gather them into safe and happy folds, 

Where signs will picture or will echo sound, 
And break their silence, partial or profound. 

O, blessed work, to break the prisoner's chains ! 

O, happy task, to give the hungry food! 
O, joy untold, to ease the sufferer's pains ! 

Or see that rugged paths with flowers are strewed, 
And all this blessedness was theirs who gave 

Sound to the deaf and language to the dumb ; 
Who told them of the Christ that came to save, 

And made them heirs of happiness to come. 
This was their angel work, though hard and slow, 

And challenges respect from friend and foe. 

Write, proudly write their names, Gallaudet, 
Cleec ; 

Paint them in letters of the richest gold, 
Carve them in marble, mention them in verse. 

Of grandest measure, and have often told 
In prose most eloquent, how they have wrought 

Emancipation from a bondage dire. 
Have 2:iven to Heaven-created will and thought 



26 ' THE UENTURE, 

PoAver to reach outward, onward and aspire^ 
With hopes of realization, to great heights 
Of all that here ennobles or delights. 

Call them philanthropists or call them friends, 

But love and honor them forevermore, 
And long as vapors rise or dew descends 

Hold blest the day they stej^ped upon our shore. 
The ship they came in perished long ago, 

And they long since were summoned from the 
field 
Wherein they toiled so faithfully to sow 

Seed that each year returns more bounteous yield, 
And grateful reapers noAV throughout the land 

Gather the harvest and pronounce it grcmd! 

Gather, then look with hopeful hearts aw^ay 

Toward the future, because teachers wait 
In phalanx deep, and deepening every day, 

E'en to the borders of our mighty State; 
Brave men, Avhose names 'tis honor to repeat ; 

Fair women, wise in love's mysterious lore; 
All, all great hearts, whom, though they never meet. 

They feel are friends, true to the inmost core, 
Whose plea, whose boast, throughout all time to come, 
Shall rightly be, "We taught the deaf and dumb." 



THE UENTURE. 2'r 

COMMEMORATIVE. 

On the auuiversaiy of the fouuding of the first school for the 
Deaf and Dumb in America. Arranged for the celebration of the 
ninetj-third birthday of the founder, the Rev. Thomas Hopkins 
Gallaudet, Friday, December 10, 1880. 

The years, the years, the wouder-freighted years, 

How fast they fly upon their silent way! 
Bearing with them alike our hopes and fears, 

And all that makes the story of each day; 
Bearing all to that sea without a shore, 

That circle, which, because it has no end, 
We call Eternity, and evermore. 

By varying paths, our way around it wend. 

Behold what monuments the years have built, 

Not in the form of pyramids alone ; 
Not in the shape of brass nor bronze high gilt, 

Nor solid gold, nor marble, granite, stone. 
Piled up in useless grandeur here and there. 

As man decrees, throughout the sea-girt land. 
To please our whimsey fancies and declare 

The cunning skill of his own brain and hand. 

Not in the form of tombs, to tell us where 

Rest those who have achieved some proud success, 

Those who are strong to venture, do or dare. 
Or suffer, others' sufferings to redress; 



28 THE I/ENTURE. 

IS'ot in such forms time's noblest work appears, 
For soon, full soon, sucli crumble and decay, 

And by the years, the wonder-working years. 
Are ruined, swept entirely away. 

But in the far more glorious, lasting form 

Of homes whereinto each poor, moaning one 
Whom fate sends forth to wander in the storm 

Of bleak adversity, whom proud souls shun, 
The maimed, the sick, demented, blind and deaf. 

The idiotic even — all assured 
That they shall find some measure of relief. 

Be cheered, be taught, relieved, or wholly cured. 

Such are the grandest monuments of Time, 

Though very plain or homely they may be. 
And each one hallows every inch of ground 

Whereon it stands — and to it proudly flee 
As to a Mecca, many a grateful heart. 

That it with pilgrim reverence may pay 
Its tithes, its homage true, and then depart 

Stronger, to press upon its rugged way. 

And every year which sees such structures rise 
And open to each burdened, suffering heart. 

Which sees them nursed, or healed, or kindly cheered, 
Or taught to act in life a worthy part, 



THE UENTURE, 29 

Is a rare golden link in Time\s vast chain, 
Firm welded, which shall glitter evermore, 

Glitter when we are done with grief and pain, 
And stand triumphant on the spirit shore. 

And they who plan these monumental piles 

And labor others' sufferings to redress. 
Labor undaunted long as heaven smiles, 

To make the sum of earth's great misery less. 
Are kings and queens, though never robe nor crown 

Nor sceptre shall be given them here below, 
Their throne is grateful hearts, their diadem 

The joy which but the self-forgetting know. 

This, but as preface, ye who meet to-day 

In one of these grand monumental homes, 
Whose history, were it fully traced, would lay 

Not in mere volumes, but in costly tomes, 
Be more than glad for what the years have wrought. 

Be more than pleased for what your eyes behold. 
Be jubilant, exultant, strange the thought. 

Yet these plain walls the very earth enfold. 

Enfold and influence, silently, yet sure 

As shines the sun by day, the moon by night, 

As gleam the stars, the \ronder-waking stars. 
In constellations gloriously bright; 



30 THE I/ENTURE. 

Influences as does a mother true, 

Through memory, her child, her Avandering child, 
Whom if she did not with fond love pursue, 

Might soon be ruined, lost or sin-defiled. 

Do any doubt? Of late to me there came 

Hoar-headed, wise, benignant, loyal, true, 
Men who reflect high honor on the name 

Of that blest mental mother, Avho can do 
Right — though they in the doing stand alone, 

Riffht — thouo:h the thouo-htless sneer and laud the 
wrong. 
Right — sure that while to God all things are known 

They are themselves an host — a mighty throng. 

They came to me, not knowing I would heed 

Their coming much, or ever sing their praise, 
!N^ot conscious that the words they dropped were 

seed. 
Which would take root, and bear in after days 

Blossoms of earnest thought, and purpose firm. 
Wherein my mind and heart, and as is meet, 

Would make their manes, to me, in proper term, 
Incense," forever precious, fresh and sweet. 



u 



And they are but a few among the host. 
Of noble men and women, who this hour 



THE UENTURE. 31 

Staiicling on life's fair verge, can proudly boast 
Thev saAV the biicl of what is now the flower, 

Trod those dear halls as children, ignorant, weak, 
As trembling prisoners, without power to tell 

Whence they had come, or whither they would go, 
When time had broken silence' horrid spell. 

Trod them as youths, emancipated, saved. 

From such a fate as would make angels weep, 
When thinking on it ; trod with senses laved 

Not only in the founts which wise men keep 
Open to all ; but at that freer fount 

Of spiritual knowledge — by the light 
Of which we upward from earth's darkness mount, 

And cross in happy triumph death's cold tide. 

Trod them as heralds of a growing class 

Who should throughout all time excite the cry — 
"What hath God wrought?" How doth he kindly pass 

Mercy around, when voiceless sufferers cry, 
How doth he love his children and declare 

His love by blessing with impartial hand, 
By making man his agent and his heir. 

And honoring him in every age and laud. 

A class that should pursue earth's winding ways 
As artists, scholars, winning wealth and fame, 



32 THE UENTURE, 

As noble laborers^ anxious to bequeath 
To their descendants an unsullied name^ 

That grandest legacy which man can leave 
His heirs or country, when at last he lies 

Cold in the arms of death, and fond hearts grieve^ 
Venting their sorroAV by their tears and sighs. 

This theme is grand, so grand I long to dip 

My pen in lurid tire, thei'eby to trace 
More perfectly the joy-inspiring scenes 

AVhich enter in and cluster round this place, 
This anniversary day, lo ! angels come 

To hover near and sing triumphal songs 
Of praise to him who made the deaf and dumb, 

And unto whom our loftiest praise belongs. 

Let the warm-hearted South and generous East 

Clasp hands to-day in kind, fraternal love. 
The pioneers — the fathers — let them come 

In spirit, from their blessed home above. 
Come to this honored Mother, who has borne 

So many mental offspring — children Avho 
But for their mutual love perchance had worn 

The heaviest shackles life's whole journey through, 

Come, and with her, and all who hold her dear,, . 
Rejoice, exult, that many, O, many a child 



THE UENTURE. 33- 

Who once seemed doomed to live in stnpid fear 

And die in ignorance, all sin-defiled, 
Is now a happy sonl, fully prepared 

To act in life a worthy, noble part, 
And go whene'er its summons is declared 

To meet the Judge with an unfearing heart. 

Call it a vine, a rare and precious vine, 

^^^hich, not a century since, was planted here, 
Planted in faith and watched assidiously 

With anxious, alternating hope and fear; 
Behold it now, a massive, fruitful thing, * 

O'ershadowing e'en the borders of our State 
At every compass point, and witnessing 

Each year a transformation still more great 

Blest evermore, be they — the pioneers 

Who bravely this great march of progress led ; 
Who struggled nobly through all doubts and fears. 

Till all uncertainity and doubt were dead. 
May ceaseless benedictions on them fall; 

May heaven's high arches with their praise resound • 
May all the deaf wh(> live or are to live 

Cherish their names with reverence profound. 

Blest be their names! and may their mantles fall 
Each generation upon spirits brave. 



S4 THE I/ENTURE. 

Brave, eager to respond to Diity^s eall^ 
To toily GocVs lowly ones to help, to save 

From snifering in Its many-sided forms 

Of darkness, ignorance, sloth and shame and sin, 

To guide them lovingly through earth's bleak storm? 
Safely the pearly gates of heaven within. 



THE DEAF-MUTE ALITMXI REUNIOX. 

From the city and the village, 

From the hillside and the vale, 
They have journeyed, they have gathered, 

Stalwart men, and Avomen frail, 
Drawn together by a yearning 

In their childhood's haunts to stand, 
In a sacred Hall of learning 

Lo ! they meet — a goodly baud. 

Hands unclasped for years are shaken, 

Hearts rejoice that long have wept, 
Visions long forgot awaken 

From some nook in which they slept; 
Eyes will read in eyes the story 

Of the hopes that soon decayed : 
Friend to friend will show the records 

Which the changeful years have made. 



THE I/ENTURE. 35 

Truthful memory is busy, 

Talking to each mind and heart, 
Showing pictures, perfect pictures, 

Of the things that were apart 
Of tlieir l:>eing, when they gathered, 

Silent, trembling and afraid, 
Here within these walls where learning: 

Of them what they are has made. 

Other forms than those around them 

Each one seems again to see; 
Other faces smile upon them, 

Full of innocence and glee; 
Teachers, school-mates, dead and living, 

They behold them all once more, 
As they saw them, as they knew them 

In the happy days of yore. 

Yet no one would change the present 

For those happy, careless hours, 
All well know themselves the richer 

For emancipated powers. 
Life and Time, then valued lightly, 

Now of precious worth are known, 
And for promise, budding brightly, 

liOvelv flowers and fruits are shown. 



;^6 THE UENTURE, 

Feeling this emaneipatiou 

That a silent force has brought, 
Conscious of the transformation 

That a little time has wrousrht. 
Looking at the Past and Present, 

Joy and gratitude are blent, 
And as incense to " Our Father/' 

Praise from every heart is sent. 

Friendship will be stronger, purer, 

Faith in God and man more true. 
Wisdom's final triumph surer, 

And this further good accrue — 
Each with greater zeal will labor 

To make life a thing sublime, 
And forever be the richer 

For this one reunion time. 

There must come an hour of parting. 

But from it I turn away, 
For before my mind is darting 

Visions of another day 
When earth's silent ones shall gather 

In Our Father's House to dwell 
Where their loosened tongues shall never 

Speak life's saddest word — " Farewell. 



7? 



THE UENTURE. S7 

THE PLEASURES OF REUNION. 

They meet again, the man of years, 
The matron grave, the stalwart youth, 

The maiden in whose face appears 
The proofs of innocence and truth. 

And hands are clasped, or hard or soft, 
As different toils have set their seal, 

And eyes and fingers question oft 
^^What is your story, woe or weal?" 

They meet, and while the moments whirl 
Laughter and smiles attest their joy, 

The matron seems again a girl. 
The man a mischief-loving boy. 

But that is all, no word is heard 
Which waiting echo might repeat. 

To prove how much each heart is stirred 
Or that they hold reunion sweet. 

For ears are deaf and tongues are dumb. 
Each has a life-long cross to bear; 

The song of birds, the bees' grave hum 
Are pleasures which they may not share. 

Yet sense sometimes grows more acute 
When to a double duty brought. 



38 THE UENTURE. 

Hands swiftly move, tho' lips be mute, 
And signs may image every thought. 

Therefore they meet again to-day, 
Who met of old — a wordless band, 

To tell how ignorance fled away 

When Wisdom moved her gracious Avand. 

And praise the while the sovereign source 
Of life and wisdom for the key 

Which, while it moved with silent force. 
From silence's chains has set them free. 

They meet again Avho pledged to be 
True friends in every time of need. 

To own that Friendship is a sea 

Whereon to launch and sail with heed. 

They meet who spoke love's solemn vow. 
Then broke it in a careless hour. 

To read from eye and cheek and brow 
Love is a thing of life-time power. 

They meet again — but yet not all, 
For here and there a vacant place 

Gives answer when the roll we call 

That death holds some in close embrace. 



THE I/ENTURE. -^^ 

Yet they and all Avho now are met 

May meet again, a perfect band, 
And with no shadow of regret 

Before the Lord, "Our Father," stand. 

There neither grieving nor appalled. 
That here they held reunion dear. 

To answer when the roll is called 

The joyful chorus, "Here, all here." 



TO AYHOM IS HONOR DUE? 

Composed for the unveiling of a Memorial Portrait of Horatio 
Nelson Hubbeil, the first Superintendent of the Ohio Institution for 
the Education of the Deaf and Dumb, and read at the Fifth Reunion 
of its Alumni, held at Columbus, Ohio, September 1st to 3d, 1882. 

Honor is not alone for those 

AYho rule in haughty pomp and power, 
For whom the people shout " long live," 

And pay large tribute every hour. 
No, no, else w^e might surely think 

Justice was growing basely partial. 
And we, to check her foolish freak, 

Opposing influence must marshal. 

Honor is not alone for those 

Who by some deed of strength or daring 
Surprise the world and set the throng 



40 THE UENTURE, 

Wonderingly listening, talking, staring, 
No, no, such may deserve some praise, 

Embodied in a song or story, 
But not to them in after days 

Accrues the most enduring glory. 

Unselfish labor for the weal 
Of others — the oppressed, rejected, 

The ignorant, isolated, who 
So greatly, sadly, are afflicted. 

In liberty, right and privilege, 
Such as true souls deem worth securing, 

This challenge, yes, this demands. 
Honor most fervent, most enduring. 

Better, ah ! better far, to strive 
With self-renouncing love to brighten 

The lot of others; better far 
Their sorrows, burdens, cares to lighten, 

Than selfishly seek transient pleasure. 
Or toil for wealth that any time 

May vanish like the dew, the vapor, 
The rainbow gay, the glittering rime. 

Better, ah ! better far, to live 
Meek doers of some humble duty 

That makes the Avorld a happier place. 



THE UENTURE. 41 

Adds to its store of use and beauty^ 

Than seek for fame in ways pronounced 

By the cold-hearted^ calculating, 
The safest, the most sure to prove 

Quickly and largely compensating. 

Earth has no heroes more exalted 
Than those who hold these doctrines true, 

Who prove their faith by boldly doing 
Whatever Mercy bids them do, 

Be it to teach in voiceless manner. 
Or act the foster-parent's part. 

Or do yet lowlier w^ork, they merit 
The honor of each grateful heart. 

Let no mean, sordid spirit whisper 
"Waste not your means, they had their pay,'' 

Gold is not full remuneration 
For labor that affects alway. 

For blessings reaching outward upward. 
Past earth, past time, so very far 

That God alone can know or measure 
Exactly what their limits are. 

Say then, upon worth's hallowed altar 
With grateful, willing, liberal hand, 
Memorials, graceful and substantial, 



42 THE UENTURE, 

Perpetuations that shall stand, 
In silent eloquence attesting 

We duly value, duly prize 

All self-forgetting thought and labor 

That tends to make us good and wise. 



OPENING HYMN FOR THE SUNDAY SER- 
YICES OF A DEAF-MUTE CONYENTION. 

Deaf to all sound, we can not raise 
Heavenward an oral hymu of praise, 

Of doubly grateful praise that we 
Once bound, benighted, now are free. 

Free from afar with glad accord 
To meet before our common Lord, 

Free with our minds, our hearts, (»ur hands 
To yield the worship He demands. 

Free in His Holy Word to read 

The doctrine of one faith, oue creed, 

One church, its corner-stones to be 
Truth, mercy, love and charity. 

Free, any moment, anywhere. 

With humble, importuning prayer 

To turn to him, fully assured. 
Christ has our audience secured. 



THE UENTURE. 43 

And we are sure that He, whose ear 
Even our secret thoughts can hear, 

Will not disdain the voiceless praise 
Which we in rapturous concert raise. 

Father Supreme, whose sovereign will 

Wisely decrees that we shall fill 
A marked, peculiar people's place 

Witnessing to thy power, thy grace. 

Now while we reverently adore 

Bless us each one, and more and more 

Make us peculiar — all thine own, 
>To live and toil for thee alone. 



CLOSING HYMN FOR THE SAME SEEYICES. 

While sweet-toned organs proudly peal 

And millons of enchanted souls 
In concert sin 2^ or meeklv kneel 

Praising the being who controls 
Omnipotently sea and land 

All nature, and celestial spheres ; 
Moves life and death by His command. 

And proves his power through all the years. 

We, deaf to every oral sound. 

With voice untuned but heart aglow, 



44 THE UENTURE. 

With love and joy, intense, profound, 
Such as the grateful only know, 

Have met to-day, a goodly band 

From near and far, that we may raise 

With soul and mind and heart and hand 
Our voiceless songs of rapturous praise. 

Father and Sou and Spirit, deign 

To hear and to accept our song. 
Baptize us all afresh and reign 

Supreme within us, making strong 
Our faith, our trust, our love, our zeal, 

Oh, give us all the bread of grace, 
The living water, so shall sin 

In us have less and less a place. 

Long as we tarry here below 

Still be our refuge and our strengtii, 
So shall we fear no ill, no foe. 

And more than dbnquerers, at length. 
Shall in Thy glorious presence meet 

With ears unstopped and tongue unloosed 
And praises manifold repeat, 

For powers here suppressed, refused. 



THE I/ENTURE. 45 

ACROSTIC VERSES. 

In memory of the Scotchman who is credited with the invention 
of the double hand alphabet, used exclusively by the Deaf and 
Dumb of England and Scotland, and to some extent in America. 

Deeply on memory's tablet 

Eiigraye and gild his name, 
AVreathe round it the best laurels 

True gratitude can frame. 

Eulogize, praise, laud, honor. 

In all its sea-girt lands, 
Where'er Avith palsied lip or ear 

A child despairing stands. 

Lay it in history's pages 

With reyerent, loying care, 
And bid each generation 

Sacredly keep it there. 

Gather all deaf and mute o nes, 

And, guided by his hands. 
Repeat life's weighty lessons 

Till each one understands. 

And show them how kind nature 

Compensates eyery ill 
By giving counteracting power, 

Or substitutive skill. 



46 TEE EENTERE, 

* Raise them from clegradation, 
Up^ lip the social plane, 
Till all who see your labor, 
Concede it is not vain.. 

?for cease, though slow the progress, 
Or very small the cheer ; 

Behold, admiring angels. 
Long as you toil, are near. 

Oh, blessed, highly blessed, 
Are they among earth's sons, 

Who bring emancipation 

To God's long-prisoned ones. 



TO A DEAF-MUTE FOREIGNER. 

Welcome, thrice Avelcome to our favored land. 

Illustrious stranger, through whose ears no sound, 

However sweet or thrilling, loud or grand, 
Enters to break the silence most profound. 

In which thy mind has dwelt through all the years 
It has been capable of hopes and fears. 

Thrice welcome thou, Avhose lips could form no 
speech. 
Until the will, the brave, ambitious will, 
Determined nature it would ever reach. 



THE UENTURE. 47 

Low at the foot of Difficulty's Hill, 



'J 



Vowed, "nothing daunted by its height, I'll press 
Up to the pinnacle of proud success." 

Welcome, thrice welcome, as a brilliant proof 
That earnest eifort is not thrown away, 

And if we rightly prize life's curious woof 

And weave its web with care from day to day, 

Our rich reward will some day surely be 
A fabric from defects wondrously free. 

Welcome, as teacher of the sacred truth 
That diligence in business often brings 

Men, even in their days of early youth, 

Into the presence of earth's mightiest kings. 

Engraves in golden characters their name. 

And crowns them with the laurel wreath of fame. 

AYelcome, great heart, that never scorns to own 
A brother, though his garb be poor or plain, 

That, though it never hears an anguished moan. 
Deems it a joy to lessen care and pain, 

And prove, when men are bordering on despair. 
That God doth kindly hear and answer prayer. 

Welcome, and if it please thee, tarry long. 

For we have need of spirits such as thine, 
To aid us in our struggles against Avrong, 



48 THE UENTURE. 

And teach us iievei" idly to repiiie. 
E'en though we bear a very heavy cross, 

And sound low depths of sorrow and of loss. 

Welcome^ and may the God who guided thee 
Across the pathless ocean to our shore, 

Thy Friend, thy Guide, and loving Guardian be, 
Giving thee back, redoubled o'er and o'er, 

Thy bounty, and when life's full Srpan is run. 

May angel hosts sing thee His pleased "Well 
done." 



TO A HEBREW DEAF-MUTE. 

Waiting, brother, waiting, 

For Messiah, King, 
Who to Israel's children 

Freedom, joy, will bring, 
He has come, though lowly, 

And in every zone 
Holiest of the holy, 

Waits to set his throne. 

Hoping, brother, hoping 
For the promised light 

That will end forever 
The long, dismal night, 



THE I/ENTURE. 49 

Law and prophets fasten 
Round the dense and drear, 

With but expectation 

Heart and mind to cheer. 

Give thy hoping over, 

It is useless now, 
And in reverent homage 

To IniQiauuel bow, 
For the light is beaming 

O'er all longing ones, 
Brighter than the gleaming 

Of a million suns. 

Longing, brother, longing, 

For a fountain sweet, 
For pure, living waters 

And a rest complete, 
Lo! a fount is flowing, 

Copious and free. 
Rest and peace are oifered 

Without price to thee. 

Seeking, brother, seeking 

For the royal wa}' 
To the heavenly Canaan, 

To the perfect day. 



50 THE UENTURE. 

Seek, Oh, seek no k^nger, 
For the way is found, 

Narrow, straight, but wholly 
Consecrated ground. 

Hoping, waiting, longing. 

Seeking, all, give o'er, 
Lo! Messiah opens 

Vvide the Gospel door. 
Leave the types and shadows 

For the substance real. 
For the Christ is mighty 

To redeem and heal. 

Hasten, brother, hasten, 

Time is flying fast, 
Mercy's calls are echoing 

In each beeeze and blast^ 
Hasten now to Jesus, 

Jesus crucified. 
And thy soul's deep longing 

Shall be satisfied. . 



THE UENTURE. 51 



HYMNS 

For the unveiling of a Memorial Tablet, ei*ected by 
Deaf-Mutes to a former teacher. 

FIRST. 



The crowd may laud as heroes 

Those who w^ith weapons gory, 
From long-contested battle-fields 

March, claimnig meeds of glory; 
May shout for them " Hurrah ! hurrah !" 

May bow wdth admiration, 
And to official titles add 

Most flattering commendation ; 
May w^ail when they are summoned 

To join the myriad dead. 
And mark with costly marble 

Their deep sepulchral bed. 

But wdiile such may be worthy 

All their adherents claim^ 
'Tis not for them the wise of earth 

Decree most lasting fame; 
'Tis not to them the troubled look 

AY hen wTongs demand redress; 
Xot them, when Right has triumjohed 

We Avith most unction bless; 
'Tis not for them wdien they must die 



52 THE I/ENTURE. 

The grateful sorely grieve; 
Nor for them admiring angels 
Their finest chaplets weave. 

But they Avho at the prompting's 

Of conscience, bravely go 
To the cheerless hamits of ignorance. 

Of folly, sin and Avoe; 
Go with the lamp of knowledge 

For those who blindly grope, 
With promises of mercy 

For those who have no hope, 
With the living Bread and Water 

For the hungry and the faint. 
With the balm of consolation 

For all who have a plaint. 

Such are earth's greatest heroes, 

Her bravest, noblest men, 
Worthy the adulation 

Of every tongue and pen, 
Worthy the painter's highest skill, 

The sculptor's truest art ; 
Worthy the loving memory 

Of every grateful heart. 
Whether their nuxle be pantomime, 



THE UENTURE. ^'-^ 

Or strangely foreign speech, 
Or native language, Heaven's smile 
Attends each word they teach. 

SECOND, 

Do we not err to call them dead 

Who after years of zealous toil 
To lessen human woe and spread 

Light, sound and knowledge, and to foil 
Evil in its deep-plotted schemes. 

Obey the All-Beholding One, 
And calmly as the fading beams 

Of sunlight, when the day is done, 
Slip from their tenements of clay 

And pass from mortal sight away. 

Surely we err, for spirit, like 

Its great originator, is 
Immortal. Vile decay may strike 

The flesh and proudly claim it his, 
But spirit, ransomed spirit, knows 

No death, once set at liberty, • 
It seeks its source, expands and grows 

In glorious power and symmetry, 
Yet to our yearning questioning 

Returns in loving ministring. 



54 THE I/ENTUREr 

Return in dreary, troubled hours, 

Gently as suubeams meet the de^Y, 
To fill our hands with hope's sweet flowers, 

And picture to our spirits' view 
Reminders of the love divine 

That follows us with tireless care 
To smooth, to straighten and define, 

To banish darkness and despair; 
That robs of terror e'en the grave. 
And will with full salvation save. 

But though when leaving earth they pause 

Kindly to say, ^' The path is light. 
For weeping there will be no cause, 

God rules, and His decrees are right," 
Gratitude suffers us to grieve 

Over the ]oss we feel immense. 
And as a proof the sighs we heave 

Spring from no shallow, base pretoise. 
Bids us their sculptured name and face 

Give in God's house an honored place. 

And bids us when we pass within 
Its sacred portals, call to mind 

The truths by which they strove to win 
Our souls from evil, and to bind 

Us all to good. Oh, doubly blest 



THE UENTURE. , 55 

Are they who point earth's wandering ones 
To the trne source of peace and rest, 

God owns them as his bravest sons, 
And blest by Him, each truth they taught 

Shall live in noble deed or thought. 



HYMN 

For the dedication of a chapel for Deaf Mutes. 

Hungering for the bread of God, 

Fresh from His benignant hand, 
For the manna of His love. 

Found in every age and land; 
Thirsting for the water sweet 

Flowing from the fount of life. 
Potent to refresh and nerve 

Souls for noble toil and strife. 

Seeking for that better way 

That leads on to Heaven's rest, 
Looking for the light that grows 

Brighter for Time's every test. 
Knowing that whate'er our state 

For us all one Saviour died, 
For us all he rose again 

Ever to be glorified. 



5(y THE EENTURE, 

We have gathered here to-day, 

A devout, though voiceless, band, 
Humbly at God's feet to lay 

The best gifts at our command ; 
Gathered here to dedicate 

One more altar, one more shrine, 
Unto Him whom we adore 

As all mighty, all divine. 

Deign, Thou Sovereign, One in Three, 

Deign our offering to accept; 
Henceforth may it ever be 

Sacred to Thy service kept. 
May we here rich treasures find, 

Here in grace and wisdom grow. 
And in spirit, heart and mind 

Onward to perfection go. 



TO A DEAF-MUTE LADY. 

We met but once, just for a little while, 
And ever since that hour, deep in my heart 
Your name has lain inscribed indeliably. 
And in the picture gallery of my mind 
Your image has retained a worthy place, 
And I will gaze upon it in the days 
That yet may add unto my span of life. 



THE VENTURE. 57 

My knowledge and the ninn])er of my friends. 

The modest grace, the cordial sympathy 

Revealed both by your countenance and words, 

Roused in my heart a tender, latent chord 

That then vibrated, and is vibrating 

Even yet, most pleasantly. 

Our meetings and our partings may be termed 

A matter of small consequence, but life, you know, 

Is made of little things, and spirits grow 

By sloAV degrees, yet ever quickly note 

Affinity, wherever it exists. 

In any one they casually may meet. 

And so it was with me that long ago 

I saw in you a spirit that aspired 

Above, beyond herself, and so my heart 

Thrilled with a sense of true affinity, 

And owns to-day that it is richer for 

Those moments spent with you. 



"I PRAYED FOR YOU." 

''Last night I prayed for you," a mute child said. 

With finger-letters, then she went her way. 
And I, to whom she spoke, I bowed my head 

And wept for joy that she for me should pray, 
For I was doubting, and my heart was sore. 



58 THE UENTURE, 

Life .seemed a struggle^ hardly Avorth its cost, 
My stars of hope seemed set to rise no more, 
And much that others prized to me was lost. 



"Last night I prayed for you/' the simple Avords 
Seemed like a message from the spirit shore, 
Or like the sweetest songs of wild wood birds, 

And thrilled me to my being's very core 
Till life, that seemed ere Avhile so hard and cold 
Grew warm and precious, and my heart grew 
strong, 
Meekly to drink all that my cup might hold, 

And toil with patience, though my task wore long. 

"Last night I prayed for you!" If those whose 
tongues 
Can speak no sinful words, for us will pray. 
What need we fear our heart-strings may be wrung 

By bitter grief or pain from day to day, 
Yet strength and help shall never, never fail. 

For God doth ever love the young and pure. 
And they have power with him and shall prevail 
So l(^ng as his own word remaineth sure. 

Oh, mighty is the worth, the power of prayer 

To heal the lieart when grief has made it bleed, 
To ease the mind when bowed by heavy care, 



THE UENTURE. 59 

Or bring us help in every time of need, 
To banish doubt and make the spirit strong, 

Aye, make it patient, trustful, calm and brave, 
To tune the dirge to sweet, exultant song. 

And strew with flowers the death -bed and the 
grave. 

Pray then, all ye who know there is a God 

Ruling and reigning throughout earth and Heaven ; 
Pray when you groan beneath the cliastening rod ; 

Pray, too, when rest and joy to you are given ; 
Pray for your friends, whatever be their state. 

They need God^s grace and guidance every hour. 
That they all good may love, all evil hate. 

And meet defiantly the tempter's power. 



THE MARCH OF PROGRESS. 

The red man and the deer have fled. 

The wolf's wild howl is heard no more, 
The "fort'' has to a city spread, 

The stream is spanned from shore to shore. 
The steam-horse wends its rapid way 

O'er hill and valley, mead and plain, 
And for the wilderness to-day 

We see vast fields, where j^iTcious grain 



60 THr. UENTURh\ 

Yearly repays all seed-time toil 

And harvest- hours of thoiiglitfiil care. 

Churches^ too, lift their steeples high . ' 

And throw their portals open wide. 
While for the frightful battle-cry 

Of savage warriors^ side by side 
Aliens walk, singing aS they go 

Of mutual interest J mutual hope, 
Pledging support in weal or woe, 

Avowing they will together cope 
Till every danger shall have passed 

And they have conquered every foe. 

And school-bells ring their daily call 

For vouth to Avalk in wisdom's wavs. 
And i)rove throuo-h useful vears that all 

Persistent mental culture pays; 
That zeal with aspiration pure 

Commands respect and will at last 
Success attain, reward secure, 

Exert au influence, small or vast. 
Even though the waiting may be long, 

A glorious reaping time is sure. 

And science gathers up vast stores 

Of curious thin2:s from mounts and mines, 



7 HE UENTURE. 61 

From hills and glades and river shores 

From shrubs and bushes, plants and vines, 
Classifies them and spreads them out, 

And bids the hurrying throng to pause 
And note each strange phenomenon, 

Each consequence of law and cause, 
Note and acknowledge power divine 

Rules over all the universe. 

And art, uniquest, truest prc-of 

Of talent, rears her temples high, 
Trying alike by web and woof, 

By form and hue to please the eye, 
To please tlie fancy in its flights. 

By restless reachings after grace, 
Symmetry, beauty, everything 

Which bears the least aesthetic trace, 
Fills, crams her deftly-shapen halls 

Till every inch of space is full. 

And mind, when it would S}»eak to mind. 
Defiant laughs at time and space, 

And sends its words, cruel or kind 
Straight on to their intended place, 

Sends them with swiftest lightning speed 
Through mid-air or the ocean's heart, 

And every hour, by will decreed, 



62 THE UENTURE. ' 

Thought answers thought, tho' miles apart, 
As spirits telegraph afar 

Their joy or grief, their hope or fear. 

Truth, too, and Reason rear aloft 

Their gracious beacons, and declare 
That though assailed and trammeled oft, 

Heaven has for them a special care. 
Envy and hatred, spite and pride. 

Falsehood and malice, all the throng 
Of evils which make up the tide 

We call injustice, error, wrong. 
All, all must yield, must surely yield. 

Leaving them in triumphant sway. 

And Wisdom, true religion's twin 

With schools alone not satisfied. 
With the progressive train falls in, 

Sends out her agents far and wide, 
To gather up with careful hands 

Thoughts that ennoble and refine, 
Instruct and please, aye, from all lands 

To gather gems from Truth's rich mine. 
And placing what they bring in ranks. 

In groups, in piles, invites the crowd. 



THE I/ENTURE. 63 

Invites the restless, eager crowd 

To the rare feasts of precious lore, 
Calls them in tones now Ioav^ now loud. 

To come, nor roam nor hunger more, 
Howe'er their taste or fancy turn 

To stars or stones, to plane or line, 
To substances that freeze or burn, 

To natures human or divine. 
She spreads her stores with generous hand 

Bidding all use till satisfied. 

Invites, too, beings once supposed 

Beyond the reach of hope or prayer, 
The blind, whose eyes are ever closed, 

The deaf and dumb, denied a share 
In speech and sound, and others who 

With imbeciles were wont to mope, 
She calls to learn with pleasure true 

That they no longer need to grope 
In mental darkness, but can keep 

Fair pace in the progressive march. 

Clay-beds and sand-banks next we find 
Transformed to many useful things 

To suit the rich or the refined. 
The heirs of peasants or of kings. 



64 ^ THE IIENTURE, 

Iron-strong or alabaster-white, 

Or delicate as morning dew^ 
Of crystal clearness, noonday light. 

Or showing every tint and hue 
Of every kind and every mould 

Which errant fancy can devise. 

Ores, too, and metals, deftly wrought 

Accomplish in a single hour 
Work which past generations thought 

Nothing could do but human power. 
Propelled by steam's superior force 

Shuttles and needles swiftly fly, 
Planes move in keen, unw^avering course, 

Saws, hammers, chisels all defy 
All human strength or speed and prove 

The worth of mind, the power of thought. 

The very soil on which we live 

Joins the immense, progressive train 
At labor's call, and hastes to give 

Each season, in rich stores of grain, 
Of fruit or flowers, the tribute due 

To talent, energy and skill, 
The proof that blessings nuist accrue 

When Ave by honest toil so will. 



THE I/ENTURE. 65 

Wlien God approving smiles and bids 
The rain to fall^ the sun to shine. 

The very light by which we move 

When Night her sable mantle throAvs 
Over the world, unites to prove 

The power of thought, and to disclose 
The fact that very many things 

Once counted powerless, useless, hold 
Vast latent forces, which, evolved, 

Cause revolutions manifold, 
And place round the discoverer's name 

Unfading laurel wreaths of fame. 

The very graves o'er which we weep 

For precious loved ones passed away, 
Pace in this march of progress keep 

And swell the wonderful array 
Of beauteous and substantial things 

Which are proof-patent every hour 
That every age in passing brings 

Our age, our nation, added power 
From failures to achieve success. 

And to the world grand records leave. 



THE BLIND DEAF-MUTE. 

Deaf, dumb and blind ! It seems so hard, so hard, 
No soundj, no sound; silence on every side; 



66 ■ TEE EENTUEE, 

Silence, as perfect, utter and profound 

As reigned when chaos vaAvned^ deep^ dark and wide* 

Deaf, dumb and blind \ It seems so hard^ so hard, 
Dumb, though the mind be all ablaze with thought; 

Dumb, though the spirit's tenderest depths and heights 
Are into ecstacy or frenzy wrought. 

Deaf, dumb and blind I It seems so strange^ so strange^ 
No light, no light, forever in the dark, 

Darkness most dense, wide as the world is wide^ 
With no relieving glimmer^ ray or spark. 

Deaf dumb and blind ! Alone^ wholly alone, 

Shut up in the small prison of herself, 
Resembling much a book firm closed and clasped 

And tossed as useless upon Mystery's shelf. 

And yet, perchance, she dwells not quite alone,. 

Angels may be her visitants and friends, 
Or at the dear Lord's pitying commands 

Often the (^omforter to her descends* 

And it may be her spirit senses all 

Keener than ours, pierce the celestial spheres. 

And while we pitying say, "Deaf, dumb and blind l'^ 
Rare sights delight her eyes, rare sounds her ears. 



THE I/ENTURE. 67 

A STRAXGE HALF-CEXTUHY. 

Suggested b}^ the remark of Laura D. Bridgmaii, in a letter 
writteu September 15, 1879, while she was visiting her mother at the 
old homestead in Hanover, N. H. ; 

^' Mj birthdaj' is on the 21st of December — flftv Aears old V^ 

Almost fifty years of dcu'Ioic^ii, 

Darkness deep as eyer fell 
O'er the world at day's declining, 

With its \yierd and waking spell, 
Darkness so intense no glimmer 

Were all Xatnre's lights combined 
With all liglits of man's inyenting 

E'er could reach the imprisoned mind. 
Yet she wails no question ^Syhy?" 
Satsified that by and bye 
Time with emphasis will tell : 
"Though so trying, it was well." 

Almost fifty years of silenee, 

Silence utter and profound. 
As if Nature had grown powerless 

To produce a single sound. 
As if all the air Ayas muffled 

Or had lost resounding force, 
Lost all power to carry echoes 

Or reyeal their primal source. 



68 THE UENTURE. 

Yet she wails no question, " why ?'' 
Satisfied that by and bye 
Time with emphasis will tell : 
" Though so lonely, it was well/^ 

Almost fifty years unabte 

Rightly to articulate 
Exclamations, questions, answers. 

Which would show the spirit's state. 
Would reveal its joy or sorrow. 

Show its cause for hope and fear, 
Tell why mirth gives place to sadness. 
Or why falls the pearly tear. 

Yet she wails no question, "why?" 
Satisfied that by and bye 
Time with emphasis will tell : 
" Though so grevious, it was well." 

Almost fifty years of toiling. 

Toiling patiently to gain 
Word by word, the common know^ledge 

Others rapidly attain ; 
Word by word, the truth that reason 

Holds and will forever bold 
Far more precious than earth's treasures 

Multiplied to countless fold. 

Yet she wails no question, "why?" 



THE UENTURE. 6 9 

Satisfied that by and bye 
Time with emphasis will tell : 
"Though so tedious, it was well." 

Almost fifty years of groping, 

Groping cautioasly about. 
Pausing oftentimes in terror, 

Oftener still in dread or doubt, 
Wondering if the sun Ls shining. 

Or if clouds the sky obscure, 
If the evening lamp is lighted, 
Or the food and drink are pure. 
Yet she wails no question, ^Svhy?" 
Satisfied that by and bye 
Time with emphasis will tell : 
"Though so wearying, it was well." 

Almost fifty years of striving 

To win victory from defeat. 
Make a prosy fate a poem 

Millions proudly shall repeat. 
Make for scholars and for skeptics 

Theories and questions strange, 
Arguments and views perplexing 

When from God they dare to range. 
Yet she wails no question, " why ?" 
Satisfied that by and bye 



THE UENTURE. 

Time with emphasis will tell : 
"Though so mysterious, it was well." 

Almost fifty years attesting 

We are not the work of chance, 
But the heirs of One who ever 

Bids us rise, achieve, advance. 
Bids us show by wise improval 
Of our talents, small or great. 
We may not one jot nor tittle 
Of our Maker's praise abate. 

Yet she wails no question, " why ?" 
Satisfied that by and bye 
Time with emphasis will tell : 
Though so onerous, it w^as well." 



an 



Almost fifty years declaring 

Mind is mighty and will rise, 
From the wreck of sense and venture 

Boldly after crown and prize. 
Venture, strive, aspire and struggle 

Conquer, persevere and stand 
On the lofty heights of triumph. 

Known and praised in many a land. 
Yet she wails no question, 'Svhy?" 
Satisfied that bv and bve 



THE I/ENTURE, 71 

Time with emphasis will tell : 
*^God decreed all, it was well." 

Almost fifty years of hoping 

For the morning that shall end 
The protracted night of trials 

Which so clearly, strangely, blend 
End the slow and cautious groping 

End the isolation sore, 
End the wondering and the longing 
End them all forevermore. 

Yet she wails no question, ^Avhy?' 
Satisfied that by and bye 
Time with emphasis will tell: 
^^ All that God decrees is well.'" 



A CHALLEXGE. 

Ho! Ye that pass by on the smooth ways of Time, 

Complacently saying, " 'Tis nothing to me — 
Nothing at least having semblance of crime, 

If while I am journeying, favored and free, 
-Prisoners most abject moan, wearily moan 

And long for liberty, liberty sweet. 
Long till their feelings find vent in a gloom 

So deep that its anguish were hard to repeat." 



72 THE I/ENTURE, ' 

Speak not so proudly, the sonls that you meet 

Burdened by sorrow or trouble or care, 
Defiled by the dust or the mire of the street, 

Or driven by want to the brink of despair, 
Are brothers and sisters, whose miserable state 

Always is something, something to you, 
And sometime, alas ! should that sometime be late. 

You Avill find you to each have a duty to do. 

The deaf and the dum b, standing sadly apart, 

Never once cheered by an audible sound, 
Whatever the longing of mind or of heart. 

Doomed to live on in their silence profound; 
The blind groping cautiously, or in affright 

Shunning one danger, another to meet. 
Or moodily waiting the end of their night. 

So tedious, so long, so intensely complete. 

The lunatic's raving is mental unrest, 

More torturing far than physical pain; 
The gibbering idiot, who at the best 

Wakes and eat^' but to sink to its slumbers again; 
The fallen, repentant, who timidly shrink 

From the withering scorn and self-satisfied pride 
Of the throng, and the wrecked, who, too hopeful to 
sink, 

Too despairing to sail, drift along Avith the tide. 



THE UENTURE. 73 

The widow, who wearily toils to protect 

Her innocent children from hunger and cold ; 
The sick and the maimed, often doomed to neglect, 

The lone, the deserted, the feeble, the old, 
The strangers, the exiled from country and home. 

Who uncared for, passed by and neglected alway, 
Are forced by misfortune to restlessly roam 

Till nature's last debt they are summoned to pay. 

All these have a claim on your thoughts and your 
care, 

All these challenge daily your pity and aid. 
And as you deny or accord them a share, 

Are as witnesses for or against you arrayed. 
Then say not again, " It is nothing to me," 

Lest the selfish assertion be echoed in Heaven, 
And Justice sends back the indignant decree : 

"Your sin is too great to be. quickly forgiven." 



TEMPERANCE POEMS 



THE I/ENTURE, 75 

THE WHISKY-JUG'S REVELATION. - 

Here is plenty of poverty, shame and disgrace, 
An imbecile mind and a red, bloated face, 

A cold, stony heart and a trembling hand, 
A strong man so feeble he scarcely can stand. 

Friend, look at these pictures awhile e're you pass, 
They cost little money — -just ten cents a glass. 

Here are dirt and disorder, starvation and cold, 
And misery greater than words ever told ; 

Here are anger and hatred, contention and strife, 
A hell for a home and existence for life. 

Friends, think of these evils awhile e're you pass. 
And say if you'll buy them at ten cents a glass. 

Here are ruin, damnation, remorse and despair. 
Aye, wretchedness greater than words can declare, 

Long ages of pain for short 'moments of mirth, 
Souls bitterly cursing the hour of their birth. 

O! friend, dare you suffer such warnings to pass, 
And. swallow destruction at ten cents a glass? 

"THE PLEASANT GLASS." 

Composed after reading the remark of a deaf-mute : 
"We went into a saloon to take a pleasant glass." 

O, look not on the '^pleasant glass," 
Though it most brightly gleams, 



jy 



76 THE I/ENTURE. 

For Avith a curse, a Avoe untold, 
Its every golbnle teems. 

O, touch it not, the ^^ pleasant glass, 
Though good it be to view. 

For it with sharp and cruel thorns 
Your path of life can strew\ 

O, drink it not, the " pleasant glass,' 
Though warm and sweet it taste, 

For it has power to work more ill 
Than pencil ever traced. 

O, dash it down, the "pleasant glass. 

As poison, ruin, death. 
Turn qui(;kly from it as you would 

Turn from the spoiler's breath. 

Yes, dash it down, until it lies 
In fragments at your feet. 

For only thus will you escape 
From ruin be complete. 

And call it not the " pleasant glass,'' 
For ruined millions know 

That poisoned, cursed, are fitter words 
Its subtle power to show. 



?? 



THE UENTURE. 77 

A PLEA. 

After readiug of a drunkard who Avas highly connected and held 
honorable position in the army, the account ending with the remark, 
" He is a ruined man." 

Call him not ruined while life's tide is flowing 

Warm through his veins, 
And reason, by sure signs, is daily shovving 

It still retains 
Its throne within the mind once strong and noble, 

Once brave and true, 
To will and plan, direct, command and venture, 

Decide and do. 

Call him not wholly ruined, noble brothers, 

You, who are strong, 
Temptations to resist, and bravely battle 

With vice and wrong, 
Hasten tC' him and kindly tell him, others 

Who fall, arise. 
Regain all they had lost and add unto it 

Much which men prize. 

Call him not ruined, though so lowly fallen, 

He member that 
While there is life, hope firmly may be cherished 

Still to combat, 
Besist and re- resist the tempter's sieges, 



78 THE I/ENTURE, 

Man has ^ro^vn strongs 
And joins, from degradation resnrected, 
Earth's noble throng. 

Call him not ruined, tell him of his darlings, 

His parents dear, 
His brothers, sisters, friends and soldier comrades, 

Then when a tear 
Drops from his eye, speak tenderly, speak softly, 

Of wife and child. 
Who love him still, and wait to kiss him welcome^ 

Though so defiled. 

Call him not ruined, tho' so nearly perished, 

Remember that 
While life remains hope rightly may be cherished, 

And we combat 
With men or demons who with selfish fury 

Struggle and strive 
Away from God and all things pure and holy, 

To drag or drive. 



HELP THE DRUNKARD TO REFORM. 

Scorn not the drunkard if he falls, 
But reach him out a helping hand, 
Set him upon his feet again, 



THE UENTURE. 79 

And bid him try again to stand. 

Tell him that as the little child 
First learns to walk, so he must learn 

Each time he falls to rise again, 
And from temptation bravely turn. 

Tell him that effort is the price 
Of all success, and he must try 

Over. and over, till he grows 
Able to pass temptation by. 

Able to say the firm word, " No,'' 
And stick to it, whoever sneers. 

Able to be a brave, true maif, 
In spite of ridicule or jeers. 

Tell him that millions daily pray 
For him and every tempted one, 

That Heaven waits to give him grace 
Temptation to resist and shun, 

Aye, tell him this, and tell him more, 
But never pass him by with scorn, 

Lest he, despairing, fall again, 
Cursina: the hour that he was born. 

Scorn not the drunkard, tho' he fall, 
He is thy brother, just the same, 
And holds upon thy love and aid 



80 THE UENTURE, 

A double, yes, a treble claim. 

While life continues, there is hope 
That reason will assert its sway, 

Will with temptatioD bravely cope, 
And gloriously your toil repay. 



FOE GOD AND HUMANITY. 

"To arms!" Behold, a cruel foe 
Is marching boldly through our land, 

Laying our noble brothers low 
And scattering woe on every hand. 

" To arms ! to arms !" Lo, widows pale 
With grief and want, repeat the cry ; 
While hosts of children sadly wail : 
" Haste, haste, to arms ! We starve, we die !'' 

" To arms ! to arms !" By all the throng 
That dwells in Heaven, forever blest. 
The solemn charge is sent a.oiig: 
"To arms! nor pause in selfish rest." 

" To arms ! to arms !" From countless souls 
Writhing in anguish and despair 

The charge in constant echo rolls 
Like thunder peals throuoh all the air. 



THE UENTURE. 81 

^^To arms!" the arms of earnest work 
For prohibition, haste away, 

For while you argue, pause and shirk, 
Millions are ruined — lost for aye. 

^^To arms! to arms!" by God's own voice 
The charge in firm command is given. 

Haste, help the whole world to rej(»ice. 
Haste, help to swell the hosts of Heaven. 



LOCAL POEMS 



THE UENTURE. 83 

THE BELL IS TOLLING/' 

Toll the bell, slow and clear, 

Toll it so that all may hear, 
Hear and know another soul 

Has at last attained a goal, 
Has life's mighty problem solved, 

All its partnerships dissolved, 
And is resting calmly now. 

While in tears its loved ones bow. 
Toll the bell. 

Toll the bell, four, five and ten, 

See the miniature twin- men, 
Sleeping, playing, side by side, 
• Dreaming earth is wondrous wide ; 
Counting o'er their books and toys, 

Making mother cares and joys, 
Thinking life is sweet and gay, 

Age and death are far away. 
Toll the bell. 

Twenty, thirty, next we hear, 

Hands are strong and heads are clear, 
Brothers still in peace abide, 

Dwelling, toiling, side by side, 
Giving honest weight to all, 



84 THE UENTURE, 

Counting true for large and small. 
Planning, venturing, with a will, 
Proving each the other's skill. 
Toll the bell. 

Forty, fifty, how the years 

Multiply their hopes and fears, 
Bring us wealth and holy joy, 

Bring us grief and sore annoy, 
Bring us age and silvered hair, 

Stamp our brows w^ith lines of care, 
Come and vanish, day by day. 

Bearing us with them away, 
Toll the bell. 

Fifty-six ! one more were se\;en. 

Think we now of death and Heaven, 
For the Captain's Avork is done. 

All his span of life is run. 
Vain is the physician's art. 

Death has touched his brain and heart. 
From his lips has forced the cry: 
" All is over, / must die /" 
Toll the bell. 

Xow a brother walks alone, 

Kow a w^idow makes sad moan, 



THE UENTURE, ^^ 

Now we hear a mother sigh : 
"Ever do the dearest die;'' 
Now for children's merry glee, 

Sobs we hear and tears we see, 
Yet the promise sw^eet is given : 

'• There is love and rest in Heaven/' 
Richer boon we can not crave, 

Toll the bell and mark the grave. 



BABY BERTHA. 

Once and only once I sa^v her, 
And then I thonght her mnch 

Like a rare bud destined to blast 
At the first chilling touch. 

Once and only once I held her, 
And then I seemed to hold 

An angel waiting for its wings, 
Its crown and harp of gold. 

And so it proved, the tender bud 
Grew tenderer every day. 

Till white and cold as falling snow, 
Void of all power it lay. 



86. THE UENTURE. 

But the pure soul that gave it life, 
With wings full grown and strong, 

Passed upward from all mortal sight 
To swell the angel throng. 

To share with them the genial home 
Where pain and grief and tears 

Can never hurt or fright as here, 
Through all the countless years. 

Ye who that bud, that angel, prized, 
Who hoped that it might grow 

To full perfection in your home. 
Your garden here below. 

Weep, if you will, to ease your hearts. 
But while you weep, rejoice 

That God for your fair darling's made 
A wiser, better choice. 



PAREINTAL LAMENT OX THE DEATH OF 
TWIN BOYS. 

We looked for one, but two were sent 

To tax our thought and care. 
To claim within our love and home 

An equal place and share. 



THE UENTURE. 87 

And though surprised, we did not turn 

Either in scorn away, 
But welcomed both and watched with joy 

Their growth from day to day. 

We gave them each a pretty name, 

And talked of many a plan 
That would their interests advancie 

As child and youth and man. 
And we were sure, were very sure, 

That in the world's vast round 
Two dearer little twins than ours 

Were nowhere to be found. 

Thus the bright, happy weeks went by, 

Till half a year was told. 
When suddenly our little boys 

Grew ill and pale and cold, 
And from our doting sight were borne 

In quiet, solemn state. 
Leaving us with our blighted hopes, 
Our desolation great. 

To go all day with empty arms 

Seems very strange indeed, 
And though we try to be resigned. 

Our hearts will ache and bleed. 



88 THE I/ENTURE, 

And when night's heavy shadows fall 

And we retire to rest, 
AYe miss the baby heads we used 

To pillow on our breast. 



OUR FRIEND. 

^^To know her was to love her/' she was fair 
As the fair flowers she loved so well to tend, 
And from her life there floated a perfume 
Sweet as the odor of the choicest rose, 
Or lilies of the valley that e'er shed 
Their choice perfume upon the ambient air. 

To know her was to know that she was true, 
As ever is the needle to the pole. 
Or north star to the night, or song of bird 
To the returning Spring, or brooding dove 
Is to its mate, yea, in a high degree 
True as '^Our Father" bids us to be true. 

To know her was to wish to emulate ; 
Her life was beautiful by deeds of love ; 
Kind words where'er her pathway chanced to lay, 
Were echoed forth like sweet, harmonious notes. 
And waked glad melodies in many hearts 
Tliat had grown sick with discord, pain and strife. 



THE UENTURE. 89 

To kllo^v her was to grieve that one so good 
Should leave the world so soon, fc-r it has need 
Of such pure souls to make it something like 
The Eden that it was e'er sin indulged 
Had Avrought tlie transformation we behold 
Around us, and would alter if we could. 



IN REMEMBEAXCE. 

Call her a flovver, for she was fair; 

Call her a star, for she Avas bright; 
Call her a jewel, rich and rare; 

Call her an angel and a light. 

And we are sure vou will not wrono;; 

Those flowers which in their forms and hue 
Outrival all the floral throng. 

And lavishly their perfume strew. 

Xor will you wrong those brilliant things 
Which dot the sky whenever night 

Kindly outspreads her sable wings 
To give us rest from toil and light. 

Nor will you wrong one precious gem 
Which brightly gleams or softly glows, 



00 THE UENTURE.. 

Ill casket or in diadem^ 

As light upon it ebbs or flows, 

Nor will you Avrong those seraphs bright 
Who highest in the heavenly throngs^ 

Guide them to scenes of new deli2:ht 
And lead them in their grandest songs. 

We loved our flower, admired our star, 
And duly prized our jewel rare, 

We thought through many a trying hour 
Our angel wondrous wise and fair. 

And hoped, how fondly none can know 
But those whom hope no longer cheers, 

Our floAver would bloom, our star would glow. 
Our jewel shine for years and years. 

But in a dark, a dismal hour, 

Thj angel. Death, with jealous eye, 

Looked on our flow^er, our beauteous flower. 
And sternly bade her droop and die. 

Looked on our star, our jewel bright, 
And took her radiance all away. 

And left her lying still and white. 
Cold as a stone, or lump of clay. 



THE UENTURE, 91 

Looked on our Light, our aiigel one, 
And pointing her to happier spheres, 

Told her she was forever done 

AVith toil and sorrow, pain and tears. 

Told her to hasten, nor to Avait 

Our farewell kiss, our fond good-bye, 

Por sometime it would be our fate 
Like her to droop and fade and die. 

Oh, sad, Oh, solemn as the night 

When first we knew that she was dead ! 

We hold that Sabbath day so bright 
When first we made her earthly bed. 

Yet, tell us not. Oh, tell us not 
Within that cold and silent tomb, 

Which yet we hold a sacred spot, 
Despite its lonely, solemn gloom, 

All, all that made our flower so sweet, 

Our star, our jewel, so diyine. 
Our light our angel, so complete. 

Moulders, no more to bloom or shine. 

For hope and faith, that blessed twain. 
Commissioned sorrowing hearts to cheer. 



92 THE UENTURE. 

Turn from the grave as in disdain, 
And say, "Rejoice, all is not here. 

" All is not here, the immortal soul 

Which made your darling's grace and worth 
Lives, and shall live while ages roll 

And you are done with time and earth." 



THE EARLY DEAD. 

Joy Cometh and we fold it 
Close to our throbbing heart, 

And pray that we may never 
With it be forced to part. 

Or form we deem angelic , 
Knocks softly at the door. 

We open, bid it enter, • 
And tarry evermore. 

Hope strengthens love's desires. 
And to our angel guest 

We sing our sweetest measures 
Of lullaby and rest. 

Nor cease our loving labors. 
Though it, earth-weary, try 



THE I/ENTURE. 93 

With restless fever-fliitterings, 
From us away to fly. 

Kor scarce believe our seuses 

Wheu to our eaoer cries 
For it, nothiug but echo 

Or vacancy replies. 

Yet, while we miss the body, 

So early doomed to die,. 
"VYe know the soul is hapjjy 

In spheres beyond the sky. 



SUGGESTIONS. 

If we could always keep the forms we prize, 
Earth, now so desolated, soon Avould be 

Heaven's counterpart, and we, with tearless eyes 
Would speak of Heaven and of Eternity. 

No thoughts of sweet reunion by and bye, ' 
Would rouse within us longings to be pure, 

Nor nerve us with courageous zeal to try 
Time's tests and trials l^ravely to endure. 

And where we now have cherished images 
Of lovely children and well-guarded graves, 



94 THE UENTURE, 

We would have grown folks, always growing old. 
And, like ourselves, to toil and trouble slaves. 

So it is well that Death doth jealously 

Look on our darlings, and bid some depart 

To people Heaven; constrain us to be wise. 
Fear God and serve Him with a perfect heart. 



PAREXTS' TREASURES. 

A picture fair and true 
Of a child- face we thought more sweet and dear 

Than any other that we ever knew 
Within the whole world's compass, far or near. 

A lock of silken hair, 
Some toys and little garments laid away. 

And guarded with a mother's tender care, 
As treasures much too precious for decay. 

A grave ^rherein is laid 
A childish form that we were wont to fold 

Close to our hearts, thinking we would not trade 
Nor barter it for tons of <J:litterIno: "-old. 

Just there where we had hoped 
For long possession and devoted care. 



THE UENTURE. C5 

For noble growth, for honor, joy and pride, 
And a brave voice to echo praise and prayer. 

Just there, yet something more. 
Sweet thoughts that cheer and comfort all o\ir 
grief. 

Our child awaits us on the spirit shore, 
The hours fly fast, and life, at most, is brief. 



THE DEAD MOTHER. 

Close the dear eyes, ' 
So brilliantly bright, 

With love's pure, thrilling. 
Heaven-fed light. 

Smooth the soft hair 
As she used to each day, 

Reservino;: a tress 
With your treasures to lay. 

Fold the white hands, 
Grown so thin and so weak, 

With daily endeavors 
Our profit to seek. 



96 THE I/ENTURE, 

Kiss the cold lips, 
Though they answer no more^ 

Breathe a glad prayer 
That their quivering is o'er. 

Think of her virtues, 
Her amiable ways, 

Emulate till 
You deserve equal praise. 

Cherish her memory 
Wherever you stray, 

And speak of her gratefully^ 
Fondly, alway. 



TO MOTHERS. 

Oh, mothers ! when your little ones 

AVith all their infant charms. 
Are taken by the Angel, Death, 

From out your loving arms. 
If in my eyes you see no tears, 

Nor find a single trace 
Of grief because they went away,. 

Imaged upon my face. 



THE I/ENTURE, 97 

Accuse nie not of heartlessoess,. 

Nor call me proud and cold, 
Careless when others' hearts are bowed 

With bitterness untold, 
For while I know — and know full well 

Your hearts are sad and sore. 
With longings for the little forms 

Who claim your care no more, 

9 

I know as well, this world is full 

Of sorrow, pain and woe, 
And that the tempter spreads his snares 

Wherever we may go. 
Therefore I will not, dare not grieve 

But rather, calmly say : 
^'God gave. His Avill be done since he 

Thought best to take away." 

O, mothers ! when your hearts are sore 

Because you had to part 
With darlings you were Avont to fold 

Close, close against your heart. 
Weep not in idle, selfish grief. 

Let this your comfort be. 
The less of earth, the more of Heaven 

And i m m ortality. 



98 THE I/ENTURE. 

O^ THE DEATH OF A LITTLE CHILD. 

Ended is paints keen anguish, 
Ended Life's tears and grief, 

Ended its mortal struggle, ^ 

After a trial brief. 

Begun is the life immortal, 

Begun is the angel song, 
Begun the joy everlasting 

Which blesses the heavenly throng. 



A LESSOX FKOM THE FLOWERS. 

Just as rare buds are opening 

Fully into the light, 
We very often see them 

Smitten bv sudden blis^ht. 

Each petal fades and withers, 
Till of the promised flower 

Nothing but dust remain eth 
To prove the spoiler's power. 

So often as w^e journey 

Along life's winding way. 



THE VENTURE. ^^^ 

AVe see rare soul-buds drooping 
In premature decay. 

See lovely features stricken 

By Death's relentless hand, 
See vacancy where dear ones 

AVere wont to sit or stand. 

In agony we question 

Why thus the fairest die, 
Why thus the joys and pleasures 

Most cherished, soonest fly. 

Each flower that fully blossoms, 

Each bud that blighted, dies. 
To all our anxious questions 

In chorus clear replies : 

^^ Vainly ye seek endurance 

Upon this sin-stained sphere, 
Like peace and full perfection 
It is not here, not here. 

"Instead, things transitory, 
Probation, trial, flight, 
Toil, tears and pain and trouble, 
And daily-coming night. 



100,. THE UENTURE. 

"Or blight or rust or mildew 
Wherever you can stray, 
Repeat in solemn warning, 
' Passing away, away.' 



"Like leaves you bud and flourish, 
Like leaves you fade and fall, 
And time's accumulations 
Are heaped above you all." 

Evening and noon and morning, 
Each hour, each moment brief^ 

In a perpetual current 

That mocks all human grief. 

The flowing and the ebbing 
Of human life goes on, 

Rare soul -buds briefly flourish. 
Droop, fade, and then are gone. 

Learn then, each precious lesson 
The flowers by voiceless speech 

Divinely are commissioned 
Throughout all time to teach. 

Obey the voice of reason, 
Be true, be always strong, 



THE UENTURE. loi 

To struggle with teiuptat'on, 
To shun and censure wrong. 



Obey the call of Heaven, 

Improve each precious power. 

With every sixty minutes 
Construct a golden hour. 

Pause not in idle dreaming, 
Shrink not in coward fear, 

Press on, the blest hereafter 
Repays right action here. 



THE OLD GPvAYE-DIGGER. 

Dig his grave well, men, dig his grave well, 

Many a grave did he dig in his clay. 
Many a time at the hush of the knell, 

He shouldered his tools and trudged briskly away. 
Away to the city where silently dwell 

The voung and the ao-ecl, the hio:h and the low, 
The happy of heart, and the sad^ who could tell 

Most pitiful stories of trial and woe. 

Fill his grave well, men, fill his grave well. 
Many a grave did ho fill in his day, 



102 THE I/ENTURE, 

Many a time when tlie bitter tears fell 

From eyes of fond monrners, he shoveled aAvay, 

Shoveled and patted and pressed down the soil^ 
The soft, yielding soil, that hid wholly from sight 

Some dear one, some darling, for whom care and toil 
Was pleasure, sweet pleasure, was even delight. 

Smooth his grave well, men, smooth his grave well, 

Many a grave did he smooth in his day, 
Many a time, as survivors can tell, 

He shaped graves most deftly, and bid sods to lay 
Over the form which insatiate Death 

Had touched with its icy, mysterious hand. 
Had robbed by one stroke, of volition and breath, 

And laid with the silent, the slain of the land. 



SONGS AND HYMNS. 



104 ■ JHE FENTURE. 



MUSIC ALL AROUXD US. 



There is music in the sunbeams^ 

As in rival speed they stray, 
Waking, warming into being 

Things of beanty every day, 
Guiding and enriching millions, 

Helping both the false and triiC;, 
And exulting at the measure 

Of the good they daily do. 

There is music in the breezes 

AVhich are talking to the trees, 
Of their travels over mountains, 

Verdant vales and rocky leas ; 
While they fan our fevered temples^ - 

List, they sing a merry song, 
And itS' burden is, '' O, mortals. 

Time, like us, moves fast along.'' 

There is music in the lightning, 
When it makes the thunders roar; 

There is music in the rain-drops. 

When the clouds their treasures pour. 

Every drop is but the echo 
Of some sweet, celestial sound, 



THE UENTURE. 105 

Ood has mercifully bidden 
To re-echo o'er the ground. 

There i.s music in our spirits, 

Songs of joy or cries of woe, 
Echoed forth in word or actions, 

As the moments from us go. 
Aye, within us and around us, 

At all times and everywhere, 
There is music, ceaseless thrilling, 
■ Ringing out upon the air. 



A CENTENNIAL HYMX. 

God of ages, Head of nations, 

Hum})ly bowing at thy fi^et, 
We with grateful adoration 

Will thy holy name repeat, 
Then in righteous triumph rising. 

We will tell the wondering world 
How Thine arm has kept our banner 

For a hundred years unfurled. 

Savage tribes have fled before us, 
Fled in fear and wild dismay, 
To the wilderness or desert, 



106 THE' UE'NTURE. 

Followed close by beasts of prey. 
Prairies have become vast cities, 

Forests, fruitful fields and bowers, 
Lofty mountaius and vast deserts 

Highways strewn with wondrous flowers. 

Proudly scorning all oppression, 

Pitying all who are oppressed, 
Holding freedom a possession 

Without which no soul is blessed ; 
Making liberty our goddess. 

Linking close her name with Thine, 
We at duty^s call have freely 

Measured out life's crimson wine. 

With progression for our motto. 

Onward with a steady pace, 
Tho' great mountains towered before us, 

Or, on ocean's trackless space 
We have pressed, till foes admiring 

Offered the fraternal hand. 
Pledging honor and allegiance 

To our laws and to our land. 

Where ere while was but a handful, 
Asking mercy, offering praise. 



THE UENTURE, 107 

Millions now are proudly gathered, 

Talking of the bygone days, 
Joining with triumphant voices, 

And with eyes suffused with tears, 
Telling how Thy hand has led us 

Forward for a hundred years. 

Grandly speeds along the chorus. 

Wafted by the summer breeze. 
Echoed by the hills and valleys. 

Rocks and waters, fields and trees. 
Bugles' notes and drums' loud clatter, 

Cannon's boom and musket's roar, 
Blendins: with our mvriad voices, 

Sound our triumph o'er and o'er. 

Being fully proved, the nation, 

Making Thee its God and Lord, 
Will attain the state and station 

Promised in Thy holy word. 
Fondlv 2:azin2: on our banner, 

While all earth and heaven hjars. 
We commend to Thee our country 

For all cominjj; hundred years. 



108 THE I/ENTURE. 

TO-DAY AND TOMORROW, 

If we turn to Gocl to-day, 

Tomorrow may find us re-turnins;. 

And if we trim our lamp of faith, 
Tomorrow may find it burning, 

And we can rejoice when the Master's voice 
Praiseth the brilliant burning. 

If we do our duty to-day^ 

Though hard may be the doing, 

Tomorrow shall conscience approve, and ^ve 
Have never a cause for rueing. 

But can justly rejoice when the Master'? 
voice 
Commendeth oxu' well-doing. 

If we bear our cross to-day, 

Though hard may be the bearing, 

Tomorrow^ the cross may be changed for the 
crown, 
And oiu' freed soul may be sharing 

The rest that is found in Heaven above, 
Whither we are now repairing. 



THE UENTURE. ■ lOO 

(lOl) IS GOOD AND GOD IS LOYE. 

AVhen the warm life-tide is flowing 
Through our veins with steady speed, 

When no adverse winds are blowing, 
And the mind from care is freed, 

When the path lies straight before ns, 
And our sky is bright above, 

Then we sing in joyful chorus: 
"God is good, and God is love." 

"VMien stern pain with tortures ready, 

Takes its place within the frame, 
And life's tide, that once was steady, 

Flow^eth like a fitful flame. 
When the path grows rough and winding, 

And the clouds are black above, 
Tho' the tears our eyes are blinding, 

Still we murmur, " God is love.'' 

But when those we fondly trusted 
Prove us false and wound us sore, 

When we know a cross of anguish 
We must bear till life is o'er. 

Then we center our affections 
Upon things which are above^ 



no THE I/ENTURE, 

And convinced by calm reflections, 
Sing the chorus, "God is love." 



THE STILLING OF THE TEMPEST, 

Wildly the storm tossed fair Galilee's waters, 
Loudly the thunder-bolts echoed and rolled, 

Swiftly the lightning flashed hither and thither. 
Voyagers filling Avith terror untold. 

And long as Jesus lay peacefully sleeping, 
Vainly his followers steered for the shore, 

Vainly they cried, "Master, save us, we perish !'' 
Or prayed that the storm would its fury give o'er-. 

But when He woke, and in majesty rising* 
Bade the wild tumult of Nature " Be still !" 

Quickly a peace that was wholly surprising 

Proved how divine were His words and His will. 

Time is a sea, and as ships we are sailing, 

Onward and outward, day after day. 
Tempests within and around us prevailing, 

Hasten to wreck us, wherever our way. 

And we grow faint, and would certainly perish, 
Did not that voice which gave Galilee peace 



THE I/ENTURE. lU 

Bid each wild tempest which we must encounter 
Quickly its menacing fury to cease. 

Oh, perfect, Oh, sweet is the calm that succeedeth 
Each tempest which Jesus commands to be still! 

And pleasant indeed are the paths where He leadeth 
Each soul that relies on His wisdom and will. 

With. Him in the vessel, or sleeping or waking, 
We steer for our harbor, our haven above. 

Secure, since each trial or danger overtaking 

Must yield, as of old, to His power and His love. 



A SONG OF EXULTATION. 

A Saviour, a Saviour! Proclaim the glad tidings. 

Resound it afar through earth's spacoius domain, 
Till each echo that now is in silence abiding 

Has caught and re-echoed the wonderful strain ; 
Till every soul wending earth's Avays, sadly bending 

Beneath heavy crosses of suffering and sin. 
Hears, and in humble, implicit confiding. 

Hastens its part of the theme to begin. 

A Saviour, a Saviour ! No longer in anguish 
We sadly must languish, o'erburdened with guilt, 



112 THE UENTURE. 

A ransom was offered, a sacrifice proifered, 
The blood of the sinless for sinners was spilt; 

The mountains have rended, the victims ascended, 
The sword sharp for vengeance in its scabbard is 
laid, 

We, freely forgiven, accepted of Heaven, 

JSo longer by fear or by doubt are dismayed. 

A Saviour, a Saviour ! now graciously pleading, 

For us interceding, with tenderest love. 
Urging humanity for moral fraility. 

Sharing our sorrows, his pity to prove ; 
With us abiding and tenderly chiding, 

Wherever we wonder away from the way; 
Guarding and guiding, and never deriding 

Thouoh from his love Ave rebelliouslv strav. 



A Saviour, a SaA'iour! with awe Ave adore him. 

And bow at his name with exultant accord, 
Our homage Ave offer, our serAnces pr(>ffer. 

And gratefully claim Him our Master, our Lord, 
His kind mediation secures our salvation, 

And we of the laAV are no longer af 'aid ; 
No grace he denies us, but freely supplies us. 

So long as on Him our affections are stayed. 



TEE UENTURE. H^^ 

A Saviour, a Saviour! Oli, mortals, receive Him, 

Own Him your Messiah, Redeemer and King, 
Witli clierubs and seraphs and highest arch-angels, 

Unite in glad concert, His praises to sing. 
His cross high upholding, his glory unfolding, 

Inspired by his wonderful mercy and love. 
In meek adoration, with devout exultation. 

Press on till ye view Him in glory above. 



A REQUEST. 

O, friend, when thinking for me to pray. 

At morning, at noon-tide, or closing of day, 
Pray not that the treasures of earth may be mine, 

That my sun of prosperity always may shine; 
Pray not that my path may be constantly straight, 

That foes ne'er confront me in anger or hate ; 
Pray not that no sorrow my heart ever try, 

Kor the hopes that I cherish ne'er wither or die. 

But pray that Our Father, the bounteous God, 
Who mingles the cup and proportions the rod. 

In mercy Avill give me true wisdom of mind. 
And generous heart-wealth, so nicely combined. 

That Avhether my portion be weal or be woe. 
So long as He wills, I a pilgrim shall go. 



114 THE I/ENTURE. 

I may ever discern and keep closely in view 

The wrong from the right and the false from the 
true. 

For wisdom and heart-Avtalth are treasures that 
bless, 
When gold has no power any Avrong to redress, 
Of the kingdom of God the-y are parcel and part, 

And are free for the poor and the lowly in heart, 
And they live when the treasures of earth are 
decayed, 
AVhen the form in the prave for lono; a2:es has laid. 
Then pray not that the treasures of earth may be 
mine, 
But that wisdom and heart-wealth within me 
combine. 



A THANKSGIVING HYMN. 

Thanksgiving and the voice of melody. 

These are the sounds which best become us, 
when 

The harvest fills our garners ])lenteously. 

And peace and comfort in our dwellings reign. 

Thanksgiving blent with humble, grateful prayer. 
These are the tributes which we justly owe. 



THE TJENTURE. 115 

As the recipients of the tender care 

Our Father doth so constantly bestow. 

Thanksgiving, adoration, love and praise, 

These are the offerings Avhich we meekly brin^r 

Now that another year has told its days, 
And paid its tithes to the Eternal King. 

Father Supreme ! deign to accept thy due, 
Of praise, thanksgiving and adoring love, 

For mercies past, and still with blessings strew 
Our paths, as on\\'ard through the years we 
move. 



A DOLLAR OR TWO. 

Of all the tunes to which we move 

As through this world we ceaseless rove. 

There is one tune which guides and sways 
Us onward in our devious ways, 

And half the things we say or do 
Are to that tune, ^'a dollar or two." 

''A dollar or two" among our friends 

To this same tune our friendship bends, 
From honest worth we coldly turn, 
Its proffered friendship proudly spurn, 



116, THE I/ENTURE. 

And try to think that false is true, 
When gilt by dollars^ one or two. 

The merchant, when to him we go, 
Will scan us o'er from crown to toe, 

And having weighed us in his scale 
Of cents and dollars, if we fail 

Of dollars, with indifference. 

He shows us goods worth only cents. 

But while he weighs us, should we rise 
To dollars, he will not disguise, 

His pleasure, but with gracious air. 
To please us he no pains will spare. 

And then, to prove his pleasure true. 
Discounts a dollar, one or two. 

The lawyer pleads his client's cause, 
Not to the tune of righteous laws, 

But by the purse each client holds, 
And by the coin which each enfolds. 

And proves his case alone is true 

Who shows most dollars, one or two. 

The doctor, too, doth come and go 
To us in times of pain and woe, 
And deals his pills and potions out 



THE. UENTURE. ir 

The while his learning he doth spout, 
In measures many, large or few, 
As we have dollars, one or two. 

Whoe'er we be, where'er we go, 
Whate'er our cause for joy or woe, 

Our state is fixed, our doom is sealed, 
By law which seldom is repealed, 

And we find favors, great or few, 
As we have dollars, one or two. 

Yet there is joy for us, for though 

To this base tune awhile we go. 
There comes a time, a glorious day, 

When love of wealth shall pass aw^ay. 
And we will not, in all we do. 

Be judged by dollars, one or two, 



COUNT THE COST. 

Often while we are journeying 
Life's mazy turnings through^ 

Thinking, proposing, planning, 
What and how w^e will do, 

If we would pause a moment, 
Calmly to count the cost, 



118 THE I/ENTURE, 

]Much labor might be treasured 
That now is wholly los't. 

Or when we are arranging 

Where and when we will go^ 
And how our independence 

To others we Avill show, 
If we would pause a moment, 

Calmly to count the cost, 
Much honor might be treasured 

That now is wholly lost. 

And oft w^hen meditatini2: 

Of w^ords which we will speak, 
To thrill another's bosom, 

Or tinge another's cheek. 
If we would pause a moment, 

C^almly to count the cost. 
Much life-breath might be treasured 

That now is wholly lost. 

Therefore let us be watchful, 
And careful every hour, 

Kememberino; words and actions 
Are things of miglity power, 

And always in our planning 
That nothing may be lost, 



THE UENTURE. no 

In })rofit, peace and pltasiire, 
Count carefiillv the cost. 



A\^HEX A\'E FOKGIVE. 

AA'hen real or fancied wrong has stung 

The hearts that should in love abide, 
When hate its galling taunts has flung 

Till anger for revenge has cried, 
The surest ])ower to break the spell 

And waken love where love should live, 
Or ring revenge its burial knell, 

Is the entreating word, "Forgive." 

''Forgive I" it is the bravest word 

That human lips can ever speak. 
And nature's heights and depths are stirred 

AVhen rnen of men forgiveness seek, 
Leiiions of ano-els hover near 

To bear the tidings up to Heaven, 
When to the plea, "Forgive," they hear 

The generous answer, "All's forgiven." 

"Forgive!" O, if we would forgive 
As oft we pray to be forgiven, 
We then would prove it sweet to live. 
And make our earth another Heaven, 



120 THE I/ENTURE. 

Auger and malice, pride and hate, 
And every sin o'er which we pray, 

Would at the contrite word "For2:ive,'' 
In dire confusion haste away. 

CHORUS.— ''Forgive/' it moves the heart of God, 
''Forgive,'' it stays the chastening rod, 
And we for taste the joys of Heaven 
When we forgive and are forgiven. 



"lajnd ahead." 

"Land ahead," the mariner singeth. 
As his vessel plonghs the deep. 
And his words like music riup-eth, 
Rousing dreamers from their sleep. 

Fellow-mariner o'er Time's ocean. 
Though thy course tempestous be, 

Though 'mid trouble's wild commotion 
Hope is nearly gone from thee ; 

Though no light thou nov/ discernest, 
ISTor a haven ^vdierein to rest. 

Though the calm for which thon yearnest 
Seldom here may fill thv breast; 



II 



THE UENWRE. 121 

riiere i.s land ahead, though never 
Mortal eyes its shores have seen, 

A sure haven where anchors never. 
Slip, nor breakers intervene. 

There is light forever beaming 

From the glorious other side, 
And with full effulgence streaming 

Far across Time's stormy tide. 

There is rest and joyful singing, 

In the presence of our God, 
Shouts of gladness often ringing 

Through His glorious abode. 

Land and lio;ht and rest ainl tjladness 

Thou than this can ask no^ more. 
Why then live in gloomy sadness, 
. When life's storms will soon be o'er? 



BEAR AND FORBEAR. 

This world is full of pain and trouble, 
This world is full of grief and care. 

But though our portion may be double, 
V^ e still should meeklv bravely, bear, 



^2-_> THE J7ENTURE, 

This world is full of pride and scorning^ 
And spiteful foes who will not spare^ 

Yet still there comes the gentle warning, 
The counsel, "Patiently forbear." 

And he is wise who while forbearing, 
And meekly sparing, thinks and sings, 

And speaks in words of calm comparing 
Of what we reckon " better things." 

Therefore if you would truly know 
Life is worth living and would share 

Heaven's blessedness where'er you go. 
Make this your rule, " Bear and forbear. 



TRY TO BE HAPPY. 

Try to be happy, 'tis wiser and better. 

Always to look on the pleasantest side. 
Than to turn doubter, desponder or fretter, 

Thinking more evil will surely betide; 
Fearing the sun will not shine on thj morrow. 

Or that the breezes adversely will blow ; 
Friends all forsake us and trouble and sorrow 

Track and precede us ^vherever we go. 



THE UENTURE. 128 

(VHORUS. — Try to be happy, try to be happy, 
Try to be happy to-day, 
Try to be liappy to-day and tomorrow, 
Try to be happy alvvay. 

Try to be happy, 'twill profit you never 

To worry and fret o'er events that are past, 
Let all unpleasantness now and forever 

In the deep sea of forgiveness be cast, 
Suffer not hatred nor envy nor malice 

That trio of tyrants, to rule in thy heart, 
Try to be happy till they and their helpers 

Confused and confounded, wholly depart. 

CHORUS. 

Try to be happy, if pain is distressing, 
Thank the Good Father that bad is not worse, 

Time ma#^ reveal that a glorious blessing 
Waits where you fear are but chances adverse ; 

Light may be shining tomorrow in places 
AYhere you see only dread darkness to-day, 

And you may find that the noblest graces 
Grow while the fondest hopes wither away. 

CHORUS. — 



124 THE I/ENTURE, 

Try to be happy, whatever your Btatioii^ 
Struggle and battle with doubt and despair^ 

There's scarcely a place or a face in creatic?n 
But has some feature attractive and fair; 

Often reflect and as often remeniber 
That if the sun were to shine all the while, 

Nature would weary and May and December 
Never would bring us a reason to smile. 

cHORrs. — 

Tr}^ to be happy. God rules and is reigning^ 
Keigning triumphant o'er sea and o'er land, 

Grieve him no longer by thankless complaining'^ 
Kiss with submission his chastening hand. 

Keep on life's sunny side, questioning never 
Why and for what all this trouble and care, 

Say "Not as I will," and then you will ever 
Offer the wisest and noblest prayer. 

CHORUS. 



WHEN SHALL WE MEET AGAIX? 

When shall we meet again? 
When shall we greet again? 
When shall our voices com mi no;] in 2: sound? 



THE I/ENTURE. 125 

When will our path of life 
AVhere lies our toil and strife 
To the same centre again circle round? 

We may not meet again, 

We may not greet again, 
Life is uncertain and time full of change, 
' And hearts here united 

In friendship oft plighted, 
Distance and circumstance widely estrange. 

Yet we shall meet again, 

And we shall greet again. 
There is a day and an hour yet to come 

When our paths now diverging 

To one centre emerging 
Will leave us rejoicing in Heaven at home. 

There when we meet again, 

There when we greet again, 
Joy like a stream unobstructed will ^ow, 

And the friendships here plighied 

Again re-united 
Shall in perfecti(>n eternally grow. 



120 THE UENTURE.. 

TRUTH SHALL TRIUMPH, 

^^ Truth crushed to earth shall rise again. 

The eternal years of Gocl are hers/' 
80 sang the poet, and his notes 

Each justice-loving spirit stirs 
With rapturous joy — though for a while 

Wrong with proud arrogance holds sway, 
Its dawn is sure; Truth will arise, 

And go in triumph on her way. 

^' Truth crushed to earth shall rise again,'' 

O, blessed, O, soul-nerving thought ! 
It dries the tears in many eyes. 

And strengthens hands which long have wrought 
Against vast odds of wealth and pride, 

Of selfishness and cruel hate, 
Of avarice that planned and tried 

By fraud to raise its own estate. 

"Truth crushed to earth sliall rise again," 
Thank God, this promise will abide 

Till wrong is vanquished; and all those 
Who Truth and Right have dared deride, 

Shall stand ag^hast to see their work 
Flvino: as chaff before the wind. 



THE UENTURE. r2' 

And learn iis ages onward roll, 

How In opp(»sIng Truth, they sinned. 

''Truth crushed to earth ^hall rise again," 

Ye friends of justice, hear and heed 
This glorious thought, and let it nerve 

You when you strength and courage need. 
Though multitudes unite to crush, 

Hide, baffle, or annihilate, 
Truth, cling to her, she will arise 

To reion in more than reo^al state. 



LIGHTS ALONG THE SHORPl 

AVhen streams are deep and skies are drear 

And fiercely blows the gale. 
Till doeful doubt and awful fear 

O'er trust and hope prevail, 
Yv^hen courage fails us and we seem 

Lost, wrecked forevermore. 
What joy intense to catch the gleam 

Of lio^hts along; the shore ! 

CHORUS. — O, beauteous lights along the shore! 
Or stars or beacons fair. 
We bless your beams and yield no more 
To billows nor despair. 



128 THE UENTURE. 

And oftener still, as on we go, 

Over the sea of Life, 
When storms of trial round us blow, 

And shriek in hurried strife; 
Vi'^hen hope grows feeble and we deem 

It vain to struggle more. 
How cheering to. behold a gleam 

Of light from some safe shore ! 

CHORUS. 

Oh, blessed lights along the shore ! 

Telling of coming aid. 
Shouting above the tempest's roar, 

^'Courage, be not dismayed!'^ 
Soon trial will no more distress. 

Soon suffering will be past, 
God will His faithful children bless, 

And shelter from the blast. 

CHORUS.— 

Oh, friends, as long as on the stream 
Of Life and Time you toss. 

Though fierce the gales of trial seem. 
And terrible your loss. 

Pause not in terror nor despair, 



THE UENTURE. 12« 

Trust oil till life is o'er, 
lio! ever shining brightly fair, 
Lights on the Heavenly shore. 

CHORUS. — 

Oh, glorious lights that flash afar 

Sweet messages of love ! 
That shout above earth's din and jar, 

" There's rest and peace above," 
Though storms be long and streams be deep. 

Faith, hope, ne'er, ne'er give o'er, 
Almighty povver will ever keep 

Lights on the heavenly shore. 

CHORUS. — 



THE AGED CHRISTIAN'S TESTIMONY. 

I am waiting, calmly waiting, 

I am waiting every day 
For my passport to that country 

Skeptics think so far away, 
To that blessed Heavenly Canatn 

Where all those by Christ de(;lared 
'^ Heirs of God," receive the "great things" 

By almighty love prepared.. 



^M) THE I/ENTURE, 

Time has brought nie grievous trouble^ 

Perplexity and loss, 
And I often slipped and faltered, 

While alone I bear my cross. 
But upon the Rock of Ages 

I at last my burden laid, 
And He proved a strong deliverer, • 

Loving shelter, guide and aid. 

^ow my pilgrimage is closing, 

All my labors are complete, 
Fast the sands of time are slipping 

From beneath my feeble feet, 
But with calm, snbmissive spirit. 

Steadfast faith and purest love, 
I am waiting for my passport 

To the better world above. 



(lOD AND OURSELVES. 

We doubt His love for many an hour. 

We set a limit to His power ; 
Question the wisdoin of His way, 
His laws with boldness disobey, 
Yet He doth spare. 
And still forbear. 



THE UENTURS. l.-u 

And ^rant us all a generous share 
Of sun and shade and sky and air. 

M'e lay each other in the scales 

(^f our own judgment, and who fails, 
Of our set weight, of them we say, 
They wander in a godless way, 
Yet He doth spare, 
And still forbear. 
And grant to all a generous share 
Of sun and shade and sky and air. 

And even tho' He doth commend. 
We grudge our cavilings to end. 
And when his voice commandeth, ^^ peace," 
Reluctantly our strivings cease, 
Yet He doth spare, 
And still forbear. 
And grant to all a generous share 
Of sun and shade and sky and air. 

Because He sees each human heart, 

And knows the struggle and the smart 
Which each must pass before the goal 
Is gained, where body parts with soul, 
So He doth spare. 
And still forbenr. 



rs2 THE UENTURE. 

And grant to all a generous share 
In His impartial Father care. 



A WEDDIIS^G-DAY SONG. 

Ring, wedding-bells! Ring loud and clear, 
vSweet notes of heartv 2:ladness, 

Ring, and a truce to doubt and fear, 
And every form of sadness. 



Ring, sweetly ring ! till every e^r 
That feels your glad vibrations 

Thrills joyfully and waits to hear 
Your further revelations. 

Ring out your tenderest, purest strain, 

For holy troth is plighted, 
And they who moved ere while as twain. 

As one are now united. 

Ring out your loftiest praise of hope. 

And noble aspiration, 
FoT' hopes long cherished find to-day 

A happy consumation. 

Ring, swoetly ring! until all hearts 
To love now growing strangers, 



THE UENTURE. \'^^i 

Iv new their youth, rehearse their parts, 
And flee all faithless clangers. 

Ring, till your peals reach all the zones, 

And no one dares disparage 
Society's best corner-stone, 

True, virtuous love and marriage. 



MAKE FLOWERS YOUR FRIENDS. 

In the sunny days of childhood. 

When your heart is light and gay, 
And earth seems a fairy wildwood, 

Where you may unhindered stray, 
That your soul may carry beauty 

Everywhere your pathway tends, 
And your heart be strong for duty. 

Make the flowers your daily friends. 

When the joys of childhood vanish, 

And your life is in its prime. 
When more weighty thoughts have banished 

Many a youthful thought and rhyme, 
That they may return to cheer you, 

When your heart with sorrow bends, 
And that angels may seem near you, 

Make the lovelv flowers vour friends. 



134 THE I/ENTURE, 

AVhen life's spring and summer sweetness 

Have to autumn ripeness grown, 
When the hope of joy's completeness 

From your heart has wholly flown, 
Lest you doubt the love enduring 

That to all your needs attends, 
And grow thankless or desponding, 

Make the fragrant flowers your friends. 

They Avill talk to you of power. 

Power deep and high and wide, 
Wisdom, love and tender mercy, 

They will image, side by side ; 
They wilf speak of dew^ and sunliglit, 

And each thing which nature blends, 
To produce them, and forev^er 

Tliev will be vour faithful friends. 



REFLECTIONS AFTER READING THE 
FORTY-SIXTH PSALM. 

"God is our refuge," when a gale 
Of trouble round us Avildly blows. 
Till hope and fliith and courage fail. 

And we, reviled by cruel foes, 
E igerly look for some safe place 



THE UENTURE. r.\r, 

AV^herein to hide from foe and storm, 
(3h, then the thought is grandly sweet, 
God is our refuge and retreat. 

God is our strength wlien pain and grief 

Have tortured us till strength is gone, 
And life appears a dismal night, 

A\'^ithout a star, without a dawn, 
Then like a sunbeam, warm and clear, 

Disj)elling all our doubt and gloom, 
Gilding our pathway's breadth and length, 

Comes the blest thought, God is our strength. 

God is our very present help, 

In time of trouble and of need. 
Oh, blessed anchor for our trust. 

Oh, safe foundation for our creed. 
I^et toil, perplexity and pain 

Heart-ache and tears our portion prove. 
All will but make us more and more 

Our Refuge, Strength and Help adore. 



WE NEED NOT SIT AYITH FOLDED HANDS. 

Though we may not cross the 0(;eans, 
Nor climb the mountains high, 



l;-5C THE I/ENTURE. 

Though we can not feed the thousands 
Who for bread in anguish cry, 

Though we have not gold and silver 
To bestow with lavish hand, 

Nor the power to build a structure 
That would beautify the land, 

We need not sit down with folded hands. 

To sigh the hours away, 
Scorning all the little duties 

Which within and round us lay; 
Keeping from the humble vineyards 

And the fields for harvest white, 
Ever beckoning us io labor 

Zealously for Truth and Right; 

Calling us to warn the erring, 

And to comfort those who weep; 
Bidding us to help the straying, 

Virtue's holy paths to keep ; 
Urging us to scatter broadcast 

Kindly words and loving deeds, 
Meanwhile sedulously guarding 

Our own hearts from sinful Aveeds. 

Every moment brings some duty, 
And if we that duty do, 



THE UENTURE. l^H 

In the blessed, long forever, 

We our course will never rue, 
B\it like some brave victor looking 

O'er a battle-field well won, 
We with honest joy can listen 

To the Master's pleased ^^ Well done." 

For as Time is made of seconds, 

Earth of minute grains of sand, 
So the doing little duties 

Tinges life with colors grand, 
Stamps the character with beauty, 

And enwreaths around the name 
God's approval, far more lasting 

Than the laurel wreath of fame. 



HERE AND THERE. 

Here the solemn, utter silence. 

And the lonely isolation. 
Here the mourning o'er desires 

That can have no consummation. 
Here the curses and the losses. 

And the weary, weary pain. 
And the longings for dear faces 

Life will show us not again. 



u\s THE I/ENTURE. 

There the music, sweet and thrilling^ 

And the countless, happy throng, 
There the knowledge that desires 

Which were here denied, were wrong, 
Tliere the crowns and harps all golden, 

4^nd the satisfying rest, 
And the joy with which the ransomed 

Shall forever more be blest. 



FRUST IN THE LORD ALWAYS. 

''Trust ye in the Lord forever, for iu the Lord Jehovah 
is everlasting strength." — Isiah xxvi., 4. 

In youth's bright morn, in life's full prime, 

Where'er thy path may tend, 
Trust in the Lord, and all the time 

Make Him thy guide and friend. 
If joys along thy pathway teem, 

Or not a joy remains, 
Still trust, long as life's crimson stream 

Flows warmly in thy veins. 

Trust in the Lord when prime is pyst, 

And the white seals of age 
Are fixed upon thee, firm and fast, 

Till thou no more canst wage 



THE UENTURE. K-iO 

Life's battle as in younger days, 

Then firmlv trust the Lord, 
Commit to Him all, all thy ways. 

And i-est upon His word. 

Trust in the Lord when Death's eojd hand 

Touches thy quivering heart, 
When liife's warm stream is at a stand 

And soul and flesh must part. 
What we call death is only change, 

The spirit's second birth, 
Its freedom evermore to range, 

Free from the ills of earth. 

Then trust the J^ord in youth and joy. 

Trust him in age and pain, 
Karth's mightiest powers can not destroy 

If He thy cause maintain. 
Oh, then, trust him implicitly, 

Though short or long life's length, 
For in Jehovah, Lord of all, 

Is everlasting strength. 



THE WILL OF GOD. 

"'God's will be done," if we would say this meekly 
When by pretended friends the heart is stung, 



140 THE I/ENTURE. 

When some bright star of hope we long have followed 

Is like a metor from its orbit flung, 
We then would find we have a friend unfailing, 

To sympathize, to cheer, to guide and save, 
A star that o'er all darkening powers prevailing, 

Will light us safely, even through the grave. 

" God's will be done." If we would say this meekly, 

AVhen pain is torturing us with ruthless hand, 
When sore bereavement, bitter grief and sorrow 

Pursue us like a savage, murderous band, 
We then would find wisdom and love commanding 

Our every pang — and calmly keeping still. 
The peace which passeth skeptics' understanding, 

Deep as the ocean, would our spirits fill. 

'^ God's will be done." If we would say it meekly, 

When called to bear some heavy, worldly loss, 
Some strong perplexity or care or trouble, 

That to our judgment seems a needless cross. 
We then would see experiences we blindly 

Regard as evils, and as such deplore. 
Is discipline, arranged with purpose kindly. 

By Him whose love and wisdom we ignore. 

^' God's will be done." Forever it is wisest 
Forever it is kindest, truest, best, 



THE UENTURE. 141 

Forever it insures most present blessing, 
Most future satisfaction, peace and rest. 

The sun may cease to shine, the moon be darkened, 
The stars may fall, the solid rocks decay, 

But if we to God's word have humbly hearkened, 
We shall have light and blessedness alway. 



A SONG SUGGESTED BY A SONG. 



*' The last rose of summer,'' a fair maiden sang, 



&;> 



And her voice like the echoes of fairy bells rang 
"The last rose of summer,^' Oh, sad is the day 
When the queen of the flowers is fading away. 

In springtime, when roses abundantl}^ bloom, 
We thoughtlessly pluck them, inhale their perfume, 

Dissect their rich petals and toss them around. 
Or carelessly trample them into the ground. 

But when every rosebud is blasted or flown, 
And the last one is blooming alone, all alone, 

We think it of blossoms most fra2:rant and fair, 
And pluck it with almost a reverent air. 

My life has its roses, yet sometimes a thorn 
Of misunderstanding, of pride or of scorn, 



U2 THE UENTURE, 

Has pierced me and mentally caused me to say, 
" My last rose of summer" is fading away. 

But just as the roses exhale sweet perfume, 
Tho' plucked, nevermore in bright beauty to bloom, 

So I must be patient, forbearing and kind, 
And with balm of forgiveness heart-bruises must 
bind. 

l^ecause the same power that bids them decay 
For me writes the sentence sure, "passing away," 

And as they yield fragrance when beauty is fled, 
80 I would leave kind thoughts when laid with the 
dead. 

'' The last rose of summer" to-day is my song, 
And the lessons it teaches are many and long. 

Oh, wretched and much to be pitied are they 
Whose last rose of summer has faded away. 



NOTHING IS LOST. 

No seed is lost, though long it lie, 
Deep hidden in the soil, 

Or if unnourished it may die. 
Despite the sower's toil. 

It is not lost although in ne'er 



THE UENTURE. \A'.\ 

111 beauteous verdure spring, 
As grain of dust, ^twill help to rear 
Some other seed or thiup;. 

CHORUS. — No seed shall die, nothing be lost, 
No influence lose its power, 
The seed shall change, the lost be found 
In some propitious hour. 

Oh, cheering thought! each little seed 

We late or earlj sow, 
Tho' it be destined or decreed 

Never to sprout or grow, 
To leaf nor luscious fruit nor flower, 

Nor precious, golden grain. 
Some thing will prove some future hour, 

We sowed it not in vain, 

CHOBUS. — 

Oh, blessed joy-inspiring thought ! 

Not one material thing 
Is wholly lost — one's poverty 

To others wealth may bring, 
For compensation is a law^ 

Fixed by almighty power, 



U4 -THE IlENTURE, 

And granite rocks may grow from seed 
Too weak to bear a flower. 

CHORUS. 

jSTothing is lost, our words and deeds 

Which seem to lack in power, 
For good or ill, are fruitful seeds 

Awaiting but their hour. 
Their favoring circumstance or time 

In which to grow and bloom, 
A.nd help some soul to God and heaven, 

Or speed it to its doom. 

CHORUS. — 

For influence is a mighty wave. 

Forever rolling on. 
On through all time tho' to the grave 

Mortality be gone, 
And onward it shall ev^er roll, 

Despite all human skill, 
Exerting upon many a soul 

Some power for good or ill. 

Oh, solemn, wholly solemn thought! 
Our influence is a power. 



THE UENTURE, 14. 

Mighty, tho^ subtle, and is fraught 

With issues every hour, 
For good or ill, for weal or woe. 

From dawn till set of sun, 
Whatever our state, where'er we go. 

Outward the currents run. 

CHORUS. — 



THE VOYAGE OF LIFE. 

While across time's ocean sailing, 

Should thy sky adversely lower. 
And temptation's waves assailing 

Kock thee with alarming power, 
When thy faith begins to waver. 

And thy strength and hope grow small, 
Raise thine arms to Heaven, where Jesus 

Waits to heed thy faintest call. 

Should thy friends most loved and cherished 

All desert or wound thee sore. 
And fond hopes like snow-flakes perished. 

Cheer thy spirit nevermore, 
A¥hen thy heart is sick with trouble. 

And thy mind dark with despair. 



146 THE I/ENTURE. 

Look to Jesus, who regards thee 
With the tenderest love and care. 

All regardless of derision, 

Whatsoever may befall, 
Though all tear-dimmed be thy vision, 

And fresh trials may appal, 
Long as lifers voyage is tending 

Outward, nearer to its end, 
Look to Jesus, He will prove thee 

An unfailing, precious friend, 

CHORUS. — Look to Jesus ! Look to Jesus ! 
Whatsoe'er thy trouble be, 
Trust in Jesus ! Trust in Jesus ! 
He will prove a friend to thee. 



SWEET MEMORY BELLS. 

Sweet memorv bells, ring out your chimes, 

Recall the hours forever fled, 
Recount to us those happy times 

When hope o'er life rich halo shed. 
When hearts were tender, trusting, true, 

Unchilled by disappointment's blast, 
And all the hours too swiftly flew, 

To swell the cvcles of the Past. 



THE I/ENTURE, 147 

Sweet memory bells ! ring, softly ring, 

Bring back to us those happy years 
When we (;ould gaily smile and sing 

And found small cause for sighs or tears; 
When we were bound by many cords 

To life, and all that makes life dear, 
And sought by kindly, hopeful words 

Less happy souls to light and cheer. 

Ring out your chimes until again 

The faith, the trust of childhood corne, 
And we can realize all men 

Are brothers, seeking for one home; 
Ring, until envy, malice, hate 

Are banished from our hearts awhile. 
And we with peace, with joy elate. 

Exult in God's approving smile. 

Oh, ring, in your own magic way. 

Until the present seems the past, 
Until the troubles of to-day 

In deep oblivion's sea are cast, 
Until the tears that dim our eyes 

Are changed to smiles o'er joys long fled, 
And we roam free 'neath cloudless skies 

Clasping the hands of loved ones dead. 



u^ THE UENTURE. 

Kirg clear, ring loud, the echoing cries 

Of thwarted hopes have dulled our ear^j, 
And time from us exacts so much 

While swelling the eternal years, 
Ring, softly ring, until your peal 

Awakes some long-forgotten song, 
Over each wearied sense to steal 

Like voices loved but silent long, - 

Ring, ring, until we cease all groans 

O'er joys created but to fly. 
Until we hush regretful moans 

O'er flowers we cherished but to die. 
Ring, till our shrinking souls grow strong 

Bravely to bear our Heaven- shaped cross, 
With patience, tho' life may seem long 

Or rough with trouble, pain or loss. 



NOT FOREVER. 

Not forever shall we sorrow, 
Not forever shall we sigh, 

Not forever shall our future 

Closely wrapped in mystery lie, 

Not forever shall we wander, 
Feeling desolate and lone. 



THE UENTURE; U9 

Feeling that among earth's millions 
We are friendless and unknown. 

Sometime we shall cease to sorrow, 

Sometime we shell cease to sigh, 
Sometime darkness will have vanished 

Wholly from our spirit's sky, 
We no more shall sadly wander, 

Desolate and drear and lone, 
But among a happy people, 

Knowing all we shall be known. 

Even now the hours are flying, 
And the darkness fades away. 

Even now we catch the glimmer 
Of the promised " sometime" day. 

Faith looks up with exultation, 
Hope begins the cheering song, 
"Not forever shall we sorrow. 
Sometime speedeth fast along." 



ASK ME XOT TO DRI^'K. 

Oh, ask me not to sip the wine. 

The sparkling, ruby wine. 
For though within the goblet bright 



150 THE IlENTURE. 

It harmlessly may shine, 
A horrid spell, a fatal charm 

Uuseen is lurking there, 
Which, if they once but touch the soul, 

Will lure it to despair. 

Oh, tempt me not to taste the wine, 

The sparkling, ruby wine, 
For though within the goblet bright 

It harmlessly may shine, 
In every drop a serpent lurks. 

To sting the trusting heart. 
And lure it from all lovely things 

Forever more to part. 

Oh, urge me not to drink the wine, 

The sparkling, ruby wine. 
For though within the goblet bright 

It harmlessly may shine. 
It holds a flame to wrap the life 

In more than midnight gloom. 
And set upon the precious soul 

The seal of hopeless doom. 

I dare not, will not sip the wine, 

The sparkling, ruby wine, 
Fur though withm the goblet bright 



THE UENTURE, I5l 

It harmlessly may shine, 
If I should sip the treacherous draught, 

A brother or a friend 
Might be thereby induced to drink, 

And ruin be the end. 

CHORUS.-^Oh, ask me not, Oh, tempt me not 
To sip the sparkling wine. 
For, left within the goblet bright, 
It harmlessly may shine. 



A SONG FOK " THE MAKE HOME HAPPY" 

AEMY. 

All around us there is sorrow, 

Toil and pain and grief and woe. 
Weary, troubled looks confront us. 

Almost everywhere we go. 
And to cheer the sad and weary 

In each home throughout our land. 
We have joined ourselves together 

As a "Make home happy" band. 

UHOKUS. — " Make home happy, make home happy," 
Is our motto every day, 
"Make home happy, make home happy," 
While we work and while we play. 



152 THE I/ENTURE. 

From the fertile western prairies 

From the rugged northern hills, 
From the verdant southern valleys, 

Through which flow the noisy rills, 
We have gathered, and have promised, 

Heart to heart and hand to hand. 
We will try, all try to scatter 

Happiness throughout the land. 

CHORUS. — 

Lo, our weapons — they are mighty. 

Though not made of iron or steel, 
And will make the hosts of trouble 

From their strongholds quickly reel, 
Love we carry as our rifle, 

Of a sure, unerring aim. 
While kind Charity, our sabre. 

Is already known to fame. 

Hark ! our battle-trump is calling. 
For recruits through all the land, 

Hark ! the bugle- notes of duty 
Clearly echo its command. 

Brothers, sisters, haste to join us. 
And our doctrine daily test. 



THE UENTURE. . I5:j 

Tliat by making others happy, 
We with happiness are blest. 

CHORUS. — 



IX)VE AND FLOWERS. 

One day I passed a garden, 

And my love was there, 
With her hands brim-full of flowers, 

Of flowers sweet and rare. 
But sweeter than the flowers, 

Fr(»m vine or shrub or tree. 
As she stood there in the garden, 

Seemed my Idve to me, 

I stopped to see the flowers, 
^ The flowers sweet and rare. 
And I said, "they all are beautiful, 

Are bea\itiful and rare." 
She blushingly assented. 

And I could plainly see 
As we stood there in the garden, 

That my love loved me. 

Then I grew bold to tell her, 
To tell her that my heart 



154 THE I/ENTURE, 

Held her, of flowers and treasures 
The fairest, richest part, 

And when I paused and waited 
An answering word or sign, 

She proifered me the flowers, 
And softly whispered, ^^ Thine." 

We have walked in many gardens, 

Since then, my love and I, 
We have seen our hopes, like flowers, 

Droop and wither, fade and die. 
But we never have regretted 

What we said that happy day, 
When our hands were full of flowers. 

Full of flowers, sweet and gay. 

For though we met with trials, 

We invariably have found 
Thorns grow among the roses. 

On the best attended ground. 
Yet each trouble and each trial 

Has a purpose or a use, 
And the roses are the sweetest 

Where the thorns are most profuse. 



THE UENTURE. 155 

THE FIRST ALARM. 

Fire ! fire ! hark, the eclio 

Falls upon the autumn air, 
Plainly saying there is danger 

And a cause for watchful care. 
But the cry is now so common 

That we have no cause to fear, 
In a little while the danger 

Will entirely disappear. 

CHORUS. — Fire ! Fire ! Fire ! Fire ! 

Yet we have no cause to fear, 

Water, water quenches ever, 
Lake and river both are near. 

Fire! Fire! hark, more quickly 

Sounds afar the awful cry. 
Lurid flames are leaping upward, 

As if they would touch the sky. 
But we need not fear nor tremble, 

For the city's heart is strong, 
And before the flames can reach it. 

They must struggle hard and long. 

OHORU8. — 



156 THE UENTURE. 

Fire! Fire! louder, clearer, 

Bursts the sound from many bells, 
Every peal and every echo, 

Of increasing danger tells, 
But there is no lack of water, 

And the flames e're long must yield, 
Wv' for years have dwelt securely. 

And are masters of the field. 

CHORUS. — 



THE CONFLAGRATION. 

Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire! 

Hark! with awful force and speed 
From the bells the words are leaping. 

Saying there ie fire indeed. 
Saying water, mighty water, 

Has not stopped its onward course. 
And the flames are rushing forward 

Scorning every human force. 

(^Hoiitjs. — Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire! 
Fire upon every side. 

Heaven help us, Heaven save ut* 
From the awful, threitening tide. 



THE I/ENWRE. .151 

Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire! 

Hope within u.s altnost dies, 
Awful fear and consternation 

Shows in many tones and eyes, 
Precious homes and hopes are burnirtg, 

Toils of many a weary year ; 
Fire to dust and smoke is turning 

Everything the heart holds dear. 

CHORUS. — 

Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire! 

Hark, the word rings yet more clear, 
Onward sweeps the burning current, 

The proud city^s heart an ear; 
Faster, faster eveiy moment 

Rushes on the glowing tide, 
Scattering blackened desolation 
" Want and woe f»n every side. 

CHORUS. 

Lo ! the citv's heart is burnino;, 

Melting to its very core^ 
All it claimed of life and beauty 

Is forever past and o'er; 
Ruins and Fmall heaps of ashes 



158 THE UENTURE, 

Tell alone of what has been 
Once the joy, the pride, the glory 
Of ten thousand busy men. 

CHORUS. — 

Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire! 

Long ago the echo died, 
But with some of us who heard it, 

It forever will abide. 
And as pilgrims to their Mecca, 

We will often sadly turn 
To the city's core and center, 

Which was builded but to burn. 

CHORUS. — 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



THE UENTURE, ici 

THE WORTH OF PRAYER. 

The power, the worth of prayer, how vastly great, 
Transcending all earth's powers to help or bless. 

Making the dreariest spot, the hardest fate 
In seeming but a very little less 

Than a clear vision or foretaste of Heaven, 
For steadfast faith's perpetuation given. 

I^ook to the past, the mighty, vanished past, 
Hark to the marvelous stories it can tell, 

Of rocks and skies- holding their treasures fast. 
Of fire that from the heavens quickly fell. 

When some old prophet, to attain an end. 
Prayed water might be stayed or fire descend. 

Look to that brother, who by fraud had won 
The birthright from his tired, despairing twin. 

When years their stern, instructive work had done, 
And he, full conscious of his selfish sin. 

Prays all night long the wronged one may forgive, 
And suffer him and his in peace to live. 

Kotice how^ kindly all his prayer is heard. 
How speedily all that he asks is given. 

How hate, that once his brother's heart so stirred, 
Is exorcised, and from him wholly driven. 



162 THE UENTURE, 

And he goes joyfully, with hurrying feet 
The wanderer with forgiving kiss to greet. 

See next a chosen people led away 

From bondage dire to a fair promised land, 

Murmuring, rebelling, sinning, day by day. 
Till God in righteous anger lifts His hand 

Saying, "Let me alone, let me alone. 

Till I my full destroying power have shown." 

Mark with what earnestness the man who knows 
By years of trial the true worth of prayer. 

Sends up the plea, "Nay, Lord, not upon those 
Heirs of thy covenant, thy tender care. 

Wreak thy displeasure, Avreak it upon me, 
At best a withered leaf, a fruitless tree." 

Then note how quickly God is pacified. 
And with his cloudy pillar, all day long. 

That glows like fire at night, deigns still to guide. 
Guard and sustain the stubborn, doubting throng, 

Till journeying, danger, doubt and fear are o'er. 
And they rest safely on blest Cimaan's shore. 

Behold five heathen kings, with all their host 

Of warriors, eager to annihilate, 
A few brave men, who, with no leader, post 



THE I/ENTURE. 168 

To meet them, heedless of the awful fate 
Planned out for them, because their trust is staid 
On Him, whose counsel is, ^' Be not afraid." 

See their brave leader bow his head in prayer, 
To God for help, for victory complete, 

Then sure that he is heard and may declare. 
The joyful fact, the amazing words repeat, 
*^Sun, stand thou still, Moon, venture not to rise, 
Until this host, confused and vanquished, flies." 

And lo! those mighty orbs, which ne'er before 
Had heeded any wish or word of man, 

In meek obedience to the mandate, pour 
Motionless light upon the rear and van 

Of that small army, till the day is done. 
Foes fled and glorious victory fairly won. 

Next hear a childless wife her longings plead. 
Till God in pity listening to her prayer. 

Sends her a son to be a wondrous seed, 

A priest, a judge, whom all men shall declare 

A holy man, worthy the priestly name, 
Worthy forevermore of noble fame. 

See there a king upon a sick-bed laid, 

Told by the prophets he must shortly die, 



164 THE I/ENTURE, 

Turn to the wall^ regretful and dismayed, 
And pray for lengthened days, till the reply 

Is sent, " Cease all thy moans and prayers and tears. 
Unto thy life is added fifteen years/' 

Look at that city, once so grandly great,.- 

Now desolated, and the faithful few 
Inhabitants who share its changed estate, 

Despised, oppressed, not knowing what to do, 
And lo ! in answer to the prophet's prayer. 

All is transformed, changed to a picture fair. 

Later, behold a chosen people doomed 
By the proud hate of a base mind to l^e 

Wholly exterminated and entombed 

All in one day because one brave man's knee 

Bends not in cringing homage to a slave, 
An arrant coward and unpitying knave. 

Then mark Avhat prayer achieves when all is known 
To the fair queen, whose people and own life 

Had been in jeopardy. How though alone, 
Or few in number, in each time of strife. 

For might and mastery, how God's people win, 
The victory, and reverse the plots of sin. 

Then seek the furnace hot, the lions' den. 

Behold, the men of prayer walk brave and strong, 



THE FENTURE. 165 

Uiiscatheclj untouched, endeavoring there and then 
To tell all doubters by triumphant song 

God for his children has a constant care, 

Marks all tlioir woes and hears their faintest prayer. 

Xext go to that grand palace, where a king 
Perplexed, astonished, sits in wild despair. 

Because sly memory has refused to bring 
Before his mind the vision, foul or fair. 

Which, while he slept, the dream-god's magic wand 
Caused in his presence for a while to stand. 

See how, when all his efforts futile prove. 
He bids the wise men of his kingdom come. 

And says in stern command, "E'en as ye love 
Your lives, sit not supinely grieved or dumb. 

But show at once my vanished dream to me, 
And tell me truly what its import be." 

Hear them cry out, indignant and astound, 

"O, King, tell us thy dream and Ave will show 
The meaning or interpretation joined 

Thereto, but to make known the dream, you know 
That never yet did potentate or king 

Demand so strange, impossible a thing," 



166 THE UENTURE, 

And while unmoved his order he repeats, 

And all the Avise men tremble, wail and weep, 

See Daniel and his friends seek their retreats 

And humbly pray their God long pledged to keep 

Covenant and mercy, graciously to show 

The vision which had vexed their monarch so. 

Xotice how quickly their united pleas 

Prevail and win the curious favor sought, 

And Daniel, wise to utter prophecies. 

Is to the troubled monarch's presence brought, 

And tells him dream and meaning, till he cries, 
" Your God is Lord of gods, all true, all wise.'' 

Consider, too, the many, many more 

Men of prophetic days, who in each hour 

Of danger or of need, were wont to pour 
Into God's ear their pleas, until his power 

Was manifested in the good they sought. 

And doubting souls to pray with faith were taught. 

Think now of Olivet and that blest day 
When Jesus to the multitude declared 

We are earth's blessed ones, and bade all pray — 
]Not as the Pharisee, who proudly bared 

His piety, saying time and again, 
"Go.l, I thank thee, I'm not like other men." 



THE UENTURE. 167 

Bade them in humble, universal love, 

Rich, poor, high, low, kmgs, subjects, bond or 
free. 
All pray, " Our Father, who in heaven above 

Art housed, and on earth should likewise be 
Our Father, by whose power we live. 

As Thou forgivest us, may we forgive/' 

Go to that mountain top whereon He knelt, 
While all within the valley lay asleep ; 

Think how His tender, loving spirit felt. 

What anguish wrung His heart, when he could 
weep 

For those who dared His holiness deride. 

Dared shout, " Away ! Let Him be crucified !" 

Hear Him when lifting up His eyes to heaven 

After his final supper and" address — 
More eloquent than all he yet had given — 

Pray : " Father, keep and sanctify and bless 
These, and all others whom Thou givest me. 

And make them all as one — as one in Thee/' 

Behold him in the garden struggling sore 
With nature and the innate love of life ; 
Hear how he utters o'er and o'er and o'er, 
^^Not as I will," yet cannot end the strife 



1^-8 THE IlENTURE. 

^Twix will and nature, till the pitying cfay 
Bids the hard night of conflict pass away. 

Then watch Him calmly go to meet His fate, 

Of crucifixion for humanity, 
Heedless that many madly scoif and prate, 

Trying to prove that no divinity 
Attaches to Him ; praying as He goes. 

For blessings, ceaseless blessings on His foes. 

Later, behold Him on the cruel cross. 

With bleeding hands and side, and thorn-crowned 
head, 
Did ever man assume so great m loss? 

Was ever blood so pure, so precious, shed? 
Did ever air resound a nobler cry? 
"Forgive them, it is. finished, I can die.'^ 

Then hear the apostles as they go their way 
After their last commission, to proclaim 

The Gospel tidings, hear them humbly pray 

For what they want, in their dear Master's name, 

And learn from the emphatic answers given 

How prayer unlocks the treasure stores of Heaven^ 

Think, too, of the unnumbered faithful souls, 

Who since the world began have asked in prayer 



THE UENTURE. 169 

Of Him who all the uDi verse controls, 

Whatever they wished or needed, larger share 

Of wisdom, grace or earth^s material things, 
And lo! it come, borne by swift angel wings. 

Think of all these, then humbly kneel and pray. 

Whenever you are tempted or dismayed. 
Put doubt and fear far from your mind away, 

Have faith, and pray as you have never prayed, 
So shall the ear, the eye, the heart, the hand. 

Of the Almighty God for you have care. 
And you each day more fully understand 

The privilege, the power, the worth of prayer. 



GOD'S PATIENCE AND GOD'S PEOPEE. 

Malicious foes burning with jealous hate. 

Spies, whisperers, and blasphemous perjurers. 

May in concerted phalanx compass them, . 

Deprive them of all weapons, all defence. 

Demolish every refuge they descry, 

In(;rease their burdens, bind them hand and foot. 

Put out their eyes and shut them into cells, 

Shockingly foul, utterly desolate. 

Dark as was chaos wiien the voice of God 

Pierced it with that imperative command, 



no THE I/ENTURE. 

'^Let there be light;" yes, more, may silence them, 
Scourge them and rack them most amazingly, 
Threaten and menace them with torments new, 
A.t morn, at noon and when the even-tide 
Pronounces its blest benediction, ^^E-est;" 
Relentlessly may carry on theh^ work, 
Ineffably and consumately base, 
Till they have wrested from their victims all 
But life, sheer life, and only sparing it 
That they may add to their own infamy 
As cruelty insatiate may suggest. 
By mockery, insult, arrogance and show 
Of triumph o'er their utter misery. 

All this the enemies of those who trust 
In God as long declared, Mighty to save. 
Strong to deliver and to recompense. 
Defiantly have done, are doing now. 
While He, their pledged protector, father, friend. 
In seeming heedlessness permits the wrong, 
The base oppression, having reasons good. 
Although they to our comprehension are 
Wholly inscrutable, or w^orse than that. 
Appear unjust. 

Yet let no one who God's great patience dares. 
And His forbearance mocks, hope to escape 



THE UENTURE. 17I 

Unpunished for their rash presumptuousness, 

For in His own good time He will dravv near 

Unto His trusting, tortured, wearied heirs, 

In tenderest pity, and will comfort them. 

Abundantly, while on their reckless foes 

So very confident He would not heed 

Or care for what they did or planned to do, 

He will look down in righteous, angry scorn, 

In furious indignation that will break 

Their haughty power and wither it away 

As grass is withered when the summer sun 

Pours down his hottest rays in time of drought, 

And while they cringe and cower in their surprise, 

Stopping their fiendish work because they must, 

And not because they are in some degree 

Repentant for the suffering they have caused, 

God, to His people more than doubly dear, 

To Him for what they suffer, or unto 

Their faithful friends who shared their lot of woe 

In spirit, if not in the active sense, 

He will give power, permission and command. 

To wreak out vengeance, greater for delay, 

Speedily on their enemies and His ; 

Give them the right, the honored privilege 

Fully to prove His perfect righteousness; 

To prove to all gainsaying, doubtless He 



172 THE IlENTURE. 

Loves justice even as He loves Himself, 
Not that it has iutrinsic exellence 
When unapplied, unexercised, unused. 
But that it is in very great degree 
One of His most exalted attributes, 
With which He can not for one moment part^ 
Without large abdigation of what makes 
His perfect total of majestic worth, 
Glory and excellence, which ne'er can be 
Equalled, much less excelled, tho' we should try- 
Throughout all time and all eternity. 
Try constantly, with highest wrought up zeal, 
Excelling in its force by vast degrees 
All that we reckon zeal ; that mercy which 
Proves so conclusively His fatherhood. 
His loving care, his tireless, watchful heed 
Of each and everything that helps to make 
The full, grand whole of the vast universe. 

O, gloriously wonderful, among 
God's many graces and high attributes. 
Shines forth His perfect patience toAvard those 
• Who wrong His people and defy His power. 
And comforting, exceeding comforting 
Is the assurance of God's constant care 
For all who humbly put their trust in Him 



THE UENTURE. 173 

While traveling the devious paths of earth, 

Thronged as they are Avith many enemies, 

Who ask no higher pleasure than to grieve, 

Perplex, oppress and hinder all who say 

They are but pilgrims seeking for a home, 

A heavenly country, far from mortal ken. 

Where they will nevermore through the dark glass 

Of hope, anticipation or desire 

Dimly behold the glories that surround 

Him, whose almighty power and sovereign will 

Decreed as part of His creative work 

Their individual, actual entity 

Decreed that they should sojourn for a while 

As one among vast millions, who must learn 

By weary wandering, the worth of rest ; 

By frequent strife, the priceless good of peace ; 

By doeful doubt and sad uncertainity. 

The blessedness of all release therefrom ; 

By pain, how sweet exemption from pain is ; 

By loss, the exultant and abiding joy 

Possession full and permanent create; 

Learn by long dreading of that change called death, 

The worth of life, of blest, immortal life ; 

Learn hourly, daily, o'er and o'er again, 

The real, intrinsic worth of everything, 

Lovely or precious or desirable, 



174 THE VENTURE, 

To make existence altogether blest, 
And most supremely blest forevermore. 



A STORY AND A SERMON. 

" Be employed/' remarked the parson. 

Then he bowed and went away, 
Leaving me alone to wonder 

How he chanced the words to say. 
For I was no idle dreamer, 

Well I knew it, so did he. 
And I wondered much and questioned 

Why he spake those words to me, 

I was sick, too sick for working. 

And my spirit was so sad 
That the comforts round me lying 

Wholly failed to make me glad. 
Life appeared a weary struggle. 

Costing more than it was worth. 
And the hour of death seemed sweeter 

Thau the moment of my birth. 

But all this I had not told him. 

Our remarks were commonplace. 
If he knew I was discouraged. 



THE UENTURE. 175 

It was only hj my face. 
So I wondered and I questioned 

Whether I should praise or blame 
One who thus commended labor 

For a sick and wearied frame. 

Yet, because I knew he seldom 

Spoke, except with kind. intent, 
And that though he uttered little, 

Very often much was meant. 
I was certain that a sermon 

Or a lecture was annexed. 
For my grave consideration 

To his briefly uttered text. 

He had told a little story 

Of a man infirm and blind, 
Who while languishing in prison, 

Fearing he might lose his mind. 
Or in plainer, common parlance. 

Would "go crazy,^^ now and then 
Spent his time in quickly dropping 

Pins, to pick them up again. 

I had laughed about the story, 

I had said, " The man was wase, 
A philosopher, a genius. 



no THE I/ENTURE. 

Worthy of applaud and prize." 
But although our ad mi ration 

Of an action may be great, 
We may have no inclination 

JSTor desire to imitate. 

Dropping pins was not my fancy, 

And I was so very tired 
That I felt to active labor 

I could not be forced nor hired, 
So I said, "^Tis surely giving 

Amiability a test 
Thus to talk about employment 

To a person seeking rest." 

Then I pressed upon the pillow 

Closer still my aching head. 
But my mind kept on repeating 

What he had so briefly said. 
And while thinking and while trying 

What might be implied, to find 
Pleasant thoughts and good suggestions 

Flashed like sunbeams through my mind. 

And my spirit rose in triumph. 
From its night of grief and pain, 



THE VENTURE. . 177 

Saying, ^^Tho' too sick to labor, 

I will not exist in vain. 
And the parson's brief injunctk»n, 

" Be employed,'' shall be a text * 
From which I will make a sermon 

For the suffering and perplexed." 

First, it is quite clear that pastime 

Should not be our only aim, 
Long as every soul around us 

Has upon our care a claim, 
And although we can not labor. 

We can speak iii cheerful tones, 
We can keep from endless murmurs, 

And unnecessary moans. 

Secondly, 'tis always wiser 

To be hopeful, cheerful, kind. 
Than to let our cares and troubles 

Rule like tyrants o'er the mind. 
For tho' hard may be our pathway. 

And the Avork we have to do. 
Still, the bright side is the right side, 

And the hind way is the true. 

Thirdly, to us all are given 
Talents, either one or ten. 



178 THE UENTURE. 

And we all can do a little 

For our suffering fellow- men. 

Tho' we can not rule the nation, 
We at least the laws can keep, 

We can give a cup of water, 
Or can hush a child to sleep. 

Fourthly, life is given for action, 

And the world is very wide, 
Fields all white, all ripe for harvest, 

Wait us upon every side. 
If we have a willing spirit, 

We can find enough to do, 
And at last can show the Master 

Precious sheaves, not small nor few. 

Fifthly, it is very certain 

That we never need despair, 
Long as God from Heaven is watching 

O'er the world with Father care. 
And while He to wild ambition 

Gives a check, or says, ^^Be still," 
AV^e should rest without complaining. 

Meekly bowing to His will. 

Finally, 'tis plain that labor, 
Which so many deem a curse, 



THE I/ENTURE. ITO 

Brought on us by Eve aud Adam, 

Is entirely the reverse, 
And ^tis just as plain existence 

Will far better be enjoyed 
If we make our daily motto, 
^' Work for others, be employed." 



WOMAjS'S mission and WOMAN'S WORK. 

Her mission, to make homes and resting places 

Edens on earth, 
Where men may rest from toil and prove her graces, 

Her precious worth. 

Her mission, to see other lives out-growing 

From her frail frame ; 
Her work, to note all grief, all wayward-going. 

And shield from blame. 

Her mission, to rebuke by virtuous life 

Vileness and sin ; 
Her work, to aid the erring in their strife 

Lost strength to win. 

Her mission, to be strong and brave and wise, 
When man is weak; 



180 THE FENTURE, 

Her workj with love-light sparkling in her eyes, 
Right words to speak. 

Her mission, to be patient, faithful, true, 

Though man be false ; 
Her work, to do all that God bids her do, 

Though flesh revolts, 

Her mission, that of a bright star, to lead 

To Heaven and God; 
Her work to soothe when man m ust smart and bleed 

Beneath the rod. 

Her mission, to speak words of hope and cheer 

In man's sad hours; 
Her work, to strew his path, when dark or drear, 

With love's sweet flowers, 

Her mission, in prosperity's bright day, 

Praises to sing; 
Her work, in adverse times, for grace to pray, 

And aid to bring. 

Her mission, in man's thoughtless, reckless hours, 

To warn and grieve ; 
Her work, when pain and death reveal their powers, 

To seek reprieve. 



THE UENTURE. 181 

Her mission, man's true helper every hour 

Of life to be, 
His guardian angel, from the tempter's power, 

Leading him free. 

Her mission, with true woman tact and skill. 

Life's journey through, 
A thousand things which man nor can nor will, 

Daily to do. 

Her mission, in a way heroic, wise, 

Sublime, divine. 
To keep herself a constant sacrifice 

On duty's shrine. 

Her icorh, to censure and reprove and chide, 

Condemn, command. 
To teach, to lead, counsel, persuade, guard, guide, 

^Nourish, defend. 

Her work, to waken tenderness and love. 

And sweet-v^oiced hope, 
And joy in other lives till joys above 

To her shall ope. 



18-2 THE I/ENTURB, 

THE MENAGERIE. 

The fool may speak the wicked thought, 

" There is no God/^ but Ave who stand 
Before these living trophies^ brought 

From many a clime and many a land. 
Dare not repeat the foolish words, 

For ceaselessly from all the throng 
Of parti-colored beasts and birds, 

There comes a refutation strong. 

The lion bold, the timid hare, 

The tiger fierce, the gentle dove. 
Each in emphatic ways declare 

What wicked men would fain disprove: 
Each joins to say there is a power 

Controlling nature ever}^where, 
And guarding every day and hour 

Each living thing with tender care. 

And 7nan, at once creation's crown, 
Its lord and master, proudly stands, 

Or meekly, calmly sitting down, 

Ijifts up to Heaven his powerful hands, 

And echoes in triumphant tones 
The wise assertion of a God, 



THE VENTURE, 183 

Who counts the stars, makes seas and zones, 
Bestows the crown or wields .the rod. 

And ivoman, yet more large or small. 

Than nature meant that she should be, 
Her homeward hurrying sisters call, 

And bids them pause awhile and see 
How nature can reverse her laws, 

Compress, or at her will expand, 
And preach a God, a great First Cause, 

In every age and every land. 

WONDERINGS. 

A century from now 
Where and what will we be? 

A century from now 
What changes, shall we see? 

Will Time move on the same 
Exact, in varying round? 

Men question whence they came, 
And whither they are bound ? 

A century from now 
Whose lips will speak our name? 

Whose heart exult that we 
To earth as dwellers came? 



^^^ THE I/ENTURE. 

If dead, who seek our tomb 
To drop affection's tear, 

Or sit in grief and gloom 
Because we are not here? 

A century from now 
We w^ill be greatly changed, 

On each surviving brow 
Deep furrows will be ranged. 

Time Avill move on the same, 
The sun will rise and set. 

And others praise and blame. 
Remember and forget. 



CITY TREES 

I love them, I love them, the trees of the city. 
Which beautify by-streets, and dot even marts, 

Seeming imbued with a generous pity 
For the people who labor with nature-starved hearts, 

Who wearily long for the cool, shady forests, 
The orchards, the gardens, where gay hours were spent, 

F(»r the fields and the meadows, the glades and the 
wild woods, 
Which they roamed and explored with delighted (con- 
tent. 



THE VENTURE. 185 

I love them, I love them, the trees of the city, 
In spring-time and summer and autumn's ripe hours, 

In winter, when no trace of verdure remaineth, 
To show the effects of warm sunbeams and showers. 

To tell of a God who loves all he createth. 
Who keeps in His storehouse of merciful care, 

For each proof of his skill and beneficent wisdom 
Sustenance ample, enough and to spare. 

I love them, I love them, the trees of the city. 
That soften the hard lines of science and art ; 

That shade with an angel-like patience and pity 
The toil-worn, the tempted, the broken in heart; 

That speak to the old of the past and its lessons. 

That sing to the young of the truths they must learn. 

That say to each being who hears or beholds them 
*' Of dust thou art made and to dust must return." 

Right clearly I love them, and think a rich blessing 
Is due those who plant them, in beauty to thrive, 

To make for the song-birds safe places for nesting 
Orchestras wherefrom they may often revive 

In our minds, faith in God as our Maker, our Father, 
Trust in Him as our guide and unchangeable friend, 

Who, tho' he may lead us through trial and trouble. 
In peace will at last b*d our wanderings end. 



186 THE I/ENTURE, 

LABOR AKD CAPITAL. 

Said Labor to Capital, "You have money, 
Money that wonderful things can do, 

While I have muscles, brain and muscles, 
In measure to profit both me and you. 

" If you care to pay a certain stipend, 
A lawful price for a given while, 
I will labor for you. Is it a bargain? 
Shall I take for ^yes' your quiet smile?" 

Capital answered, proudly, coldly. 
In tones of a master, not a friend : 
" If to employ you, try your labor, 
I for a season do condescend. 



a 



Know and remember, each hour remembor. 
Your strength and time are mine, all mine, 

From the earliest dawn of every morning, 
Till the orbs of evening begin to shine." 



/^But you forget, forget," said Labor, 
" I am human as well as you, 
Requiring rest and recreation 

To make and keep me to nature true." 



THE UENTURE, 187 

Capital sneered, ^'To me that's nothing, 
All that I want is your faithful toil, 

You are a fighter with fate, my business 
Is the adding of golden spoil to spoil." 

As plead fond parents with their children 
Who err; as pleadeth man and wife. 

As plead the oppressed for right and justice, 
As plead the doomed to die, for life, 

So Labor pleaded for the people. 

The fragile women, stalwart men, 
God's honorable, toil-burdened children, 

Who briefly rest, then toil again. 

But Capital proudly scorned all pleadings. 
Till growing desperate. Labor cried : 
"You may laugh and sneer, but the fact is patent, 
Eight hours is a figure on your side. 

" Yes, a figure, sir, I might say fortune. 
For o'er worked muscles can never do 
Work that will equal the work accomplished 
By workers whose laboring hours are few. 

" Search the world throuo[:h, and those who labor 



o"? 



Without cessation, for thirteen hours, 



188 THE UENTURE, 

Tremble and falter, and ovei' and over 
Stamp in their work ^exhausted powers/ 

" While those who toil for a shorter season, 
Prove by their zest and efficient skill 
That they who demand the longest labor 
For the poorest work pay the heaviest bill. 

" Humph/' said Capital, " You are a striker, 
And that last stroke, sir, is pretty strong, 
I'll think about it, and time will settle 
Whether your view^s or mine are wrong.'^ 



7? 



NATAL BELLS. 

Our natal bells, how oft they tell 

How rapidly the seasons roll. 

How swiftly grows our being's scroll. 

The hel]3less babe is soon the child. 
The sanguine youth, with fancies wild. 
The adult, more moderate, calm and mild. 

Rashly, or with a cautious art. 
With honest or deceitful heart. 
We act in Life's long play our part. 



THE UENTURE. 189 

Tho' both our creed and course be wrong, 
Heedless alike of sigh or song, 
Time moves us rapidly along. 

Past many a verdant isle, where we 
Fancy to dwell would surely be 
Completeness of felicity. 

Past icebergs of sore loss and grief. 
Past many a troublous rock and reef. 
He speeds us like a floating leaf. 

Or like a foam-capped ocean-wave, 
Designed some far-oif shore to lave, 
Rolls us from cradle- bed to ffrave. 

And fears and hopes by turns prevail. 
While eyes grow dim and cheeks grow pale. 
And steps more slow, and spirits fail. 

Yet how we live, and how we grow. 
And how our lives in currents flow. 
We for ourselves alone can know. 

For life and growth, tho' common things, 
As free to subjects as to kings. 
Move evermore with noiseless wings. 



190 THE UENTURE, 

And all we of their mystery koow. 
Is that we are, and that we grow, 
And must forever onward go. 

And while we strive for bread and gold. 
Our natal bellsr are promptly tolled, 
And we are classed among the old. 

Thus onward seasons swiftly roll, 
Longer our birth-bells yearly toll, 
And larger grows lifers mystic scroll. 

Until a time no human ken 

Unerringly can name, and then, 

We change, and from the haunts of men 

Depart to spiritual spheres, 

To learn through all succeeding years 

The " why" of earthly toils and tears. 

Our natal bells are like a voice 
Speaking in words of wisdom choice, 
Bidding us all in life rejcdce. 

Bidding us everywhere we go 
Mitigate others' weight of Avoe, 
And seeds of kindness freely sow. 



THE UENTURE. It) I 

Fully assured that Time will bring 
For each good deed some precious thing 
To swell Right's final harvesting. 



A BIT OF BLANK VERSE. 

As earth is made of atoms, so this thing 
This essence, this warm state which we call life, 
Is made of little things, short breaths and sighs. 
Short steps, brief glances, smiles and tears and 
Succeeding one another measuredly, [w^ords. 

Quick heart-throbs and slow pulse-beats, proving 
Is strong or feeble, as the red blood flows [forc^ 
With even or uneven measurings. 

' The form is not the measure of the being, 
Earth's circuit round. It is the mind, the heart, 
The soul, the immortal soul, that ever makes 
The full, ripe nature; form, itself, may be 
Of Liliputian mold, or grown so gross 
As to oifend all those who love to gaze 
On symmetry and beauty, yet the soul 
Enshrined therein, may be as large, or fair 
Or grandly perfect as e'er glorified 
A human frame of the most faultless mould. 



192 THE UENTURE. 

Pow'rs may be fettered, cramped or crippled sore, 
Yet be quite perfect in their innate strength, 
Their natural scope and capability 
And all degrees or points essential to 
Efficient labor and the winning of 
Unstinted approbation and reward. 
Or we, perchance, may be compelled to dwell 
In lonely, uncongenial social folds, 
In dreary nooks and corners all the while 
Our aspiration reaches highest Heaven, 
And our ambition compasses the world. 

We are not now what we were yesterday. 
We do not think like thoughts or speak like words. 
Nor are w^e what we will be, every hour. 
We change, we grow, and, if we will it, may 
Grow better, upward, outward, every day. 
Until we sleep, to wake from Time's short night 
To an eternal day of blessedness. 
Whence looking back across the gulf of space. 
Which separates this world from the Above, 
Life, which we now consider wonderful. 
Will seem more wonderful, more precious still. 
And we shall know ourselves and see how small. 
How impotent we are, beside thaf God [Cause, 
Who rules supreme, earth's glorious Great First 



THE L'ENTURE. 1-98 



I^ovd of the Universe, First King of Heaven, 
And our Creator, blessed evermore. 



THE COPY. 

"Better to live well than to live h»ng," 

The school-boy wrote the copy o'er and o'er, 

With graceful flourishes and careless scrawls. 
He wrote as many a boy had done before, 

And when his sheet was full he laid it by, 
Thinking, '^ Again that copy I will try." 

'Tis said, " The days of prophecy are past," 
And they may be; but often as I look 

Upon the page his pen had marked so fast, 

And read those words which so his fancy took, 

I doubt the statement, and it seems to me 

That school-boy wrote his own life's prophecy. 

For scarcely had he thought, ^^ Those words are true, 
I'll heed their lesson, and my life shall be 

Well spent, so well my teacher will not rue 
The hour he wrote this copy down for me," 

Ere the Death Angel touched him, and he lay 
With folded hands, cold as a lump of clay. 

And I, who own that blotted paper now. 
And stand a weeper at his early grave. 



194 THE UENTURE, 

Repeat his copy, and remember how 

With generous, lavish wav he daily gave 

Friendship and love and trust to all who came 
Anear him holding;: out a hand or claim. 

And while I look and weep and ponder well, 
I feel as tho' an angel spoke to me, 

Bidding me tarry not, but haste to tell 
All that upon the blotted page I see. 

Say to the young in story and in song: 
" ^ Tis better to live well than to live longj^ 

O, yonth, so hopeful and so brave of heart ! 

To whom this life seems all, yes, all you need, 
O, maiden ! whose pure lips so often part 

With merry laughter, giving little heed 
To future years, but fancying it were well 

Here in this old queer world alway to dwell. 

Pause, listen, for this life is not the whole 
Of our existence, tho' our joy be great 

In its possession, evermore the soul. 

Our nobler part, sighs for a higher state. 

Or realm, or sphere, where free from every woe 
It can perpetually expand and grow. 

All this I read upon the scribbled page. 
And at the angel's bidding tell to you. 



THE I/ENTURE. 195 

For I have pledged my every power to wage 
War against sin, and for the good and true 

To plead and toil, but if my words you scout, 
And proudly ask for more to clear your doubt, 

Go ask all those who sold their hopes of Heaven 
For short-lived pleasure or a little gold. 

If it has paid, and to you will be given 

When they speak true, in accents firm and bold, 
*' Nay, it has not, we did a mighty wrong, 

"' TTs better to live ivell than to live long J' 

And from the souls writhing in full despair, 
And from the spirits blest forevermore. 

From all the evil and the good, like prayer 
Repeated daily, hourly, o'er and o'er. 

Sounds on the air in accents clear and strong: 
"'Tis better to live well than to live long J' 



THE OXE NAME. 

There is one name that I would trace 
In richest gold and rarest gems. 

Round which in forms of truest grace 

Would wreathe earth's grandest diadems; 

One name, to which in humble awe 
And grateful homage I would bow, 



186 . THE UENTURE, 

Offering as due sacrifice, 

Adoring lovers most solemn vow; 

One name, to winch my soul would raise 
The incense of perpetual praise. 

There is one name that I would speak 

With reverent! il, tender tone; 
One name that I would ever seek, 

In all its richness to make kno^vn ; 
One name to which I long to see 

Earth^s every dweller reverent kneel ; 
One name^ whose praise I fain would hear 

Rise in one full, triumphant peal ; 
One name, than all sweet names more sweet. 

Whose praises angels oft repeat. 

That name is Jesus I Hear, my soul. 

With reverent awe, that sacred name^ 
To make thee of life's sickness whole, 

Jesus to earth once kindly came ; 
For thee He lived a suffering life. 

Of hatred, scorn, neglect and blame; 
For thee He bore the tempter's strife, 

For thee the keenest pain and shame; 
For thee, for all, the Saviour died. 

The Son of God was crucified. 



THE I/ENTURE. 197 

Blest name, the pledge of love untold, 

Of pardon, peace and purity, 
The only title we can hold 

Or plead as soul security. 
Rest for the weary, joy for those 

With grief or weariness oppressed, 
Hope's anchor, haven of repose. 

Through it life's ills are all redressed. 
Through it our needs are all supplied. 

And God is fully satisfied. 

Jesus ! let those who dare deride. 

Let those who will, scoff and reject, 
My soul in Thee will still confide. 

Shall still believe Thou wilt protect. 
Still wilt I call thee Son of God, 

Eedeemer, Intercessor, Friend, 
Still seek for pardon through Thy blood, 

My hope's beginning and its end, 
And if I perish, it shall be 

Trusting, Lord, Jesus Christ, in Thee. 



198 THE I/ENTURE, 

A PROTEST. 

After reading the reroark : ""It is reported that is dead." 

Say not that he is dead, the man who dared 

Bravely to speak the stern, indignant word 
When, drunk with malice, jealous foes declared 

Evil of one Avhom he had ever heard 
Kindly commended as a faithful friend 

Of the afflicted, the oppressed, the weak, 
Of all Avho have an interest to defend 

A wrong to right, a privilege to seek. 

Say not that he is dead, for such as he 

Are born immortal, and can never know 
What death, real death is, they awhile may be 

In that cold, quiet state, which here below 
Heaven and its life of perfect blessedness, 

AYe to designate from all other states 
To which our human parts are more or less 

Subject, call death, the key to spirit gates. 

But that is all, his spirit ne'er can die, 
It will but drop its tenement of clay. 

Its perishable rind, and unseen fly 
As flies the air, away, away, aw^ay. 

Upward and higher, till at length it gains 



THE I/ENTURE. 199 

Heaven and the presence of its maker, God, 
There to be free from all that tempts or pains 
Man, or brings on him the chastening rod. 



FRIENDSHIP. 

When hopes fondly cherished are blighted or flown, 
And we among strangers are toiling alone. 

Oft thinking witii sorrow or yearning regret 
Of C'ld times, of past scenes, or of people we met, 

Loved, trusted, and think till creation shall end 
Will prove themselves Avorthy the sacred name, friend ; 

Or of others who taught us the lesson anew — 
The fickle are legion, the steadfast are few, 

Be the time dawn or mid-day or twilight's blest hour 
When thus we are swayed by thought's magical power. 

When thus we review, retrospect and look o'er, 
Scenes, faces and forms we shall never see more. 

How cheering the message from one who is true, 
^^You are not forgotten; we oft think of you." 

"You are not forgotten," there's manna and balm. 
Wine, oil, fragrant incense, gay song and grave psalm 

In this precious assurance, this proof that old friends 
Are faithlul, whatever occurs or portends. 

And thinking it over, the tried heart grows strong 



200 THE UENTURE. 

To bear the neglect of the mer(;iless throng, 

Grows strong to endure, struggle, strive and prevail, 
Until duty is done, or until powers wholly fail, 

Oh, Friendship, true Friendship ! Timers bruises and 
stings 
Lose much of their poignance wherever thy wings 

Are spread, or thou standest, a sheltering rock 
To break the rough force of adversity's shock, 

As long as the ages are circling round 
Thy praise will be sung with joy high and profound. 



THE VALUE OF A SOUL. 

Friend, wouldst thou know the value of a soul? 

Go, count the stars, and give their number true; 

Weigh the whole world, then write its ]3erfect ^veight; 

Value earth's every treasure at its worth. 

Then add together number, weight and sum 

And multiply their product by itself, 

Time and again, until their figures reach 

High as man's highest power can compute. 

Then lay th^ whole within some balance true, 

And in another I will lay a soul, 

One single heaven-born soul, and you shall see 

That as a mountain towers above a vale, 

As grains of dust appear by tons of gold. 



THE J7ENTURE. 201 



So doth a single soul excel in worth 
All things this side of Heaven. 



A PEOOF OF IMMORTALITY. 

Suggested by reading the Grecian tradition of Ion and Clemantha. 

^' Shall we meet again, Clemantha? 

You this question ask of me, 
And I of myself oft ask it, 

With intensest agony, 
For tho^ sweet thus for my country 

A sacrifice to be, 
It is hard, Oh, hard, Clemantha, 

Thus to go away from thee. 

"Shall we meet again, Clemantha? 

I have asked it of the hills, 
I have asked it of the valleys. 

Through which flow the gleesome rills; 
Of the trees, and of each insect 

That Avith life doth throb and hum. 
Of the stars that shine in Heaven, 

But they all alike were dumb. 

"Shall we meet again, Clemantha? 
When I look into thy face, 



202 ^ THE I/ENTURE, 

When I note thy loving features 

Stamped with beauty and with grace, 

When I see the love-light flashing 
From thine eyes so brightly plain, 

Then I feel we are immortal, 
And that we shall meet again. 

We shall meet again, Clemantha, 

And our greeting shall be sweet. 
For no fear of separation 

Shall oppress us when we meet, 
But our souls in sweet communion 

Shall forever joy and grow. 
And our bliss be all the greater 

For our parting here below. 



FINISHED WOKK. 

We look at things comjjleted, and comment 

Say perfect or defective, good or bad, 

But think not of the long protracted toil, 

The midnight vigils and the noontide sw^eats, 

The circumstances totally adverse. 

The trials, failures and discouragements, 

The hours, the days, the aggregated "^veeks, 

The months, perchance the years that were required 



THE UENTURE. 203 

To make it the perfected whole we see; 

Ignore the strong, enthusiastic zeal 

The noble, heaven-born, dauntless energy 

Which made mistakes their helpers and secured 

From each provoking failure some success, 

NTor once relinquished hope, but went on bravely, 

Wresting some victory from each delay 

Of plan or purpose, this stupendous price 

The worker or producer had to pay, * 

As license fee or legal premium, 

Upon the work ere it could be completed. 

We with injustice consumately utter 

Omit as Aveightless, disconnected nothings. 

Or Avaive as insigni^cant belongings, 

And poising hastily the scales of judgment. 

Our own weak, narroAV judgment, place therein 

The finished work, and with immense complacence 

Oar verdict give, sometimes of commendation, 

And hasty praise, but often, full as often, 

Of criticism, pitilessly cruel. 

Or at the best uncharitably severe. 



A SOLILOQUY. 

No sound, no sound ! no loudly chiming bell, 
Nor cannon's boom nor Avind's intensest roar, 



204 THE FENTURE, 

ISTor thunder peal, nor ocean^s loudest swell, 

Nor music, such as high-toned organs pour, 
Or best strung harps yield from their secret store. 

No sound, no sound ! I dwell alone, alone. 
In silence, such as reigns in deepest grave, 

Not even my own voice in sigh or moan 
Starting a single ripple or sound wave 

To flow until the shores of sense they lave. 

No sound, no sound ! Lost, wholly, wholly lost, 
Within myself to all by which the ear 

Can to the mind reveal at trifling cost 

Causes for hope and joy or doubt and fear, 

Or warning give that danger*^"hovers near. 

No sound, no sound ! Silence on every side, 
A silence so profound no words can show 

Its solemn perfectness, how like a tide 
Of cold, dead waters, without ebb or flow 

It holds, engulfs and wears by tortures slow. 

No sound, no sound ! An alien, though at home, 

An exile, even in my native land, 
A prisoner, too, for though at will I roam. 

Yet chained and manacled I oft must stand. 
Unmoved, though sounds vibrate on every hand. 



THE UENTURE. 205 

No sound, no sound! Yet often I have heard 
Echoing through dear memory's sacred hall 

The buzz of bees, the rare song ol a bird, 
The melody of raindrops as they fall, 

The wind's wild notes or Sabbath belFs sweet call. 

And often, too, in memory I hear 

My parents telling me, in songs, of Heaven, 

That happy land, that wholly blissful sphere 
Where hearts are ne'er by sin or trouble riven. 

But all are blest, forgiving and forgiven. 

No outward sound! Yet often I perceive 
Kind angel voices speaking to my soul 

Sweetly consoling changes to believe 

That this life is a part, and not the whole 

Of being, its beginning, not its goal. 

They tell me, too, a day is drawing near 
When all life's burdens I may lay aside. 

And pass from earth into that blissful sphere 
Lying beyond the intervening tide 

Which we call death, and think so deep and wide. 

No sound except the echoes of the past, 

Seeming at times, in tc-nes now loud now low, 
The voices of a cons'reg'ation vast. 



•206 . THE I/ENTURE, 

Praising the God from whom all blessings flow. 
Until ray heart with rapture is aglow. 

No pleasant sound, yet I am well content 
To wait until the Master deigns to sav 
In tones by sympathy made eloquent, 

"It is enough, lo! thy deliverance day 
Is dawning, weary prisoner, come awav. 

" Come, thou, who of my Father, God, art blessed. 

Inherit now the kingdom that for you 
, He hath prepared, the satisfying rest. 

The peace that passeth not like morning dew, 
The joy perpetnal yet forever new." 

Sweet words, if they shall be the first to break 
The silence of these swiftly- fleeting years. 

What a grand recompense I Henceforth I make 
Them the assuagers of my sighs and tears. 

The kind rebukers of my doubts and fears. 



WHAT I WOULD DO. . 

I Jong to strike the poet's harp 
Till it sends f?rth such melody 

That every ear on which it falls 

Shall thrill with wondering ecstacy. 



THE UENTURE. 207 

Oh, I would waken notes sublime, 

To cheer the hearts now sad with grief, 

And lull them for a blissful time 
Into a sense of sweet relief. 

And I would sing again the song's 

The angels sing on heavenly hills, 
Which echo down to me prolongs 

Until my soul with rapture thrills. 
Sing them in notes so rarely sweet 

That they would charm each toil-dulled ear, 
And woo the pleasure-seeking crowd 

To pause awhile and wondering hear. 

And I would clothe in words the thoughts 

The glorious thoughts that come to me, 
Fresh from Truth's mine, golden ingots, 

Gems of rare hue and purity, 
Oh, I would write them dowm in words 

Noted for strength and eloquence. 
And send them broadcast o'er the world 

Accomplishing Heaven's wise intents. 

But I am weak, I can not strike 
The poet's harp with skillful hand, 

I can not wake rare melodies 

To be re-echoed through the land; 



208 THE UENTURE. 

Too puny is my strength to clothe 

With master power the precious tiiouglits 

That come and pass from out my mind, 
Glittering like gems and rich ingots. 

What then? Shall I ignobly wait 

As those who gaze at vacancy, 
Or murmur that my talents rate 

Only plain mediocrity? 
No, I will take the poet's harp 

And strike at least its simple keys, 
Trusting that in some stronger soul 

They may rouse higher melodies. 

And as my strength, my skill permits, 

I'll clothe the thoughts that come to me. 
And send them out, mere waifs and bits 

To float o'er human life's great sea, 
Praying that they may prove to some 

Discouraged, grief-tossed voyager 
A friendly spar to save it from 

The yawning whirlpool of despair. 

And having toiled with head and hand, 
I will await with conscience clear 

Till I before the Judge must stand 
His verdict on my toil to hear. 



THE UENTURE. 209 

Wait past all doubting, firmly sure 
That justice will not make it naught, 

Because that I, with motives pure 

According to my strength have wrought. 



WHEN I SHALL BE SATISFIED. 

Though now I see no purpose in my life, 
Nor understand the mystery of its plan, 
Nor know how far beyond the present hour 

Extends its sphere, 
If when the span is measured, it appears 
That God through my poor life was glorified, 
Though now I see nothing but mystery, 

I shall be satisfied. 

Though now I bear pain's heavy, galling cross, 
And sorrow wounds my heart to bitter tears, 
And all the gold of joy is mixed with dross, 

If it appears 
When all is ended, that my heavy cross 
Was but my crown, bent thus, its worth to hide, 
And every trial was a well-set gem, 

I shall be satisfied. 

Though toil has brought me small material gain, 
And every year is marked with heavy loss. 



210 THE I/ENTURE. 

And tho' my graves of disappointed hopes 

Are green with moss, 
If, when the Master comes to view my work, 
And lay it in His balance to be tried, 
I find that others were enriched thereby, 

I shall be satisfied. 

Tho' now my heart gives more than it receives. 
And much that others value is denied 
To me, from day to day, if Death reveals 

What life doth hide. 
And proves beyond all doubting that each wish 
Each want of mind and heart here unsupplied 
Purchased some pleasure for another life, 

I shall be satisfied. 



BRING FLOWERS. 

" They speak of hope to the fainting heart, 
With a bud of promise the}^ come and part, 

They sleep in dust through the wiutr}- hours, 
They break forth in glory — bring flowers, bright flowers." 

— 3frs Hemans. 

Bring flowers, fresh flowers, when the joyful sing, 
At the birth and the solemn christening. 

They are emblems true of our mortal state. 
Of its end, its certain, avoidless fate. 



THE UENTURE. 211 

Like them awhile shall the infant grow, 
Like them at last in the dust lay low, 

Then fail not, oh, fail not fresh flowers to bring 
For the natal day and the christening. 

Bring flowers for the bridal when hope tow'rs high, 

i^nd love is beaming from lip and eye, 
When fear and doubt and distrust are still, 

And joy is toning each pulse's thrill. 
When trust is with perfect trust repaid, 

And a solemn, mutual compact made, 
And life is sweet, Oh, then bring flowers. 

To bless with their beauty the fleeting hours. 

Bring flowers to speak of the love Divine, 

That measures love's farthest boundary line. 
That notes the fitness of each for each. 

And hears the thought tho' unformed in speech. 
Bring flowers to tell us that tho' decay 

Our strength and vigor may steal away. 
The love that is true shall never die. 

But will add to the bliss of our home on hip^h. 



'to' 



Bring flowers for the coffin o'er which we weep 

For the friend whom we vainly strove to keep 
From the spoiler's hand and his chilling breath 



212 THE JIENTURE. 

When he came to work that change called death, 
To transplant the soul to ns so dear 

To a richer soil and a higher sphere, 
Bring flowers, they will speak of the spirit's bloom 

While the flesh decays in the silent tomb. 

Bring flowers, sweet flowers, when the trusting 
heart 

With its darling joys is forced to part. 
When its budding hopes all droop and die, 

And its idols in broken fragments lie, 
When faith is wavering, courage fled. 

And doubt's dark pall over life is spread. 
Oh, then bring flowers, sweet flowers, to prove 

Almighty power and unfailing love. 

Bring flowers at morn, at noon, at night, 

To cheer our souls while they charm our sight, 
To rebuke our murmurs and hush our fears, 

With their whispers of past and of coming years. 
Bring flowers to tell us that grief shall cease. 

And toil be crowned with a due increase, 
In all life's stages and fleeting hours, 

Bring flowers, bring beautiful, fragrant flowers. 



THE UENTURE, 213 

A LITTLE WHILE. 

A little while to walk life's rugged road, 
A little while to bear its heavy load, 

A little while to labor and to weep, 

A little while earth's scattered grains to reap. 

A little while, and then, life's toils all o'er, 
Its trials past, its sorrows felt no more. 

The soul safe in its many-mansioned home. 
Shall be at rest, thence nevermore to roam. 

A little while, help us, dear Father, God. 

To bear with patience every cross and load, 
Help us with faith to labor on to Thee, 

And meekly wait until Thou set'st us free. 

Free to behold Thee in Thy glorious home. 
Free from Thy presence nevermore to roam. 

Free to adore Thee, to bask in Thy smile. 
Free evermore, not for a little while. 



GOOD AXD BETTER. 

To die, O, it were sweet! 
To bid adieu to sorrow, loss and care. 

To fold the weary hands, comjwse the feet, 



214 THE UENTURE. 

And nevermore to breathe an anxious prayer ; 

To say a few faint words of kind '^ good-night/' 
To the few friends whom we consider true, 

Then close the eyes to earth^s poor, fitful light^ 
And open them on scenes sublimely new. 

To live, O, it is grand ! 
When disappointment, trouble, loss and pain 

Have tracked us on and on, until we stand 
Convinced that unsubstantial, poor and vain 

Are the right names for much we mortals seek 
And struggle for most pertinaciously, 

Till God draws near, rebuking words to speak, 
And take our idols one by one away. 

To live, O, it is sweet! 
Each day, each hour, we live to strive to be 

A blessing to each soul we chance to meet 
Lovingly helping it to feel and see 

Life is worth living, is a precious boon, 
A wholly precious boon, although the heart 

Before we have attained our prime, our noon, 
Has with its dearest hopes been forced to part. 

To live, O, it is grand ! 
To live not for one^s self and friends alone, 

But for each troubled soul whose trembling hand 



THE VENTURE. 215 

Is i^ised to Heaven, whose agonizing moan 

Echoes through space, onward from sphere to 
sphere, 

Onward through each celestial clime and zone, 
Until it reaches the all-pitying ear 

Of Him who sits on Heaven's eternal throne. 

To live, O, it is sweet ! 
Self-will, self-love, self-righteousness and sin 

Of every kind, to trample neath our feet, 
And daily sanguine victories to win, 

In heart, in mind, in body and in soul, 
O'er eye and ear, o'er tongue and lip and hand. 

O'er all that makes our individual whole, 
O, thus to live is truly sweet and grand. 



LINES FOR A YOUNG LADY'S ALBUM. 

A moment is a little thing. 
Made up of seconds small, 

An hour, what is it? A short string 
Of moments — that is all. 

Days are but aggregated hours, 
Weeks, only days combined; 

Months are but weeks of sun and shower, 
Named^ numbered and defined. 



216 THE UENTURE. 

Days, weeks, months, years, which come 
and go 

With ceaseless, noiseless speed. 
Leaving us pleasure, pain or woe. 

Plenty, or pinching need. 

Into vast ages, by the tide 

Of time, with speed of thought. 

Are added, weighed or multiplied. 
And from them all are wrought 

Eternity, that circle great. 

Older than human ken ; 
Life-time of God and seal of fate, 

To angels and to men. 

Determine then, Time's fragments small 

So wisely to employ, 
Eternity for one and all 

Will bear a stamp of joy. 



COUNSEL FOR THE TROUBLED. 

What though friends to-day forsake thee, 

Lov^e them still; 
From thy valley kindly watch them 

Climb life's hill. 



THE UENTURE. ■ 217 

What though pain may torture keenly, 

Patient be, 
Keenest pain is soonest over, 

Thou wilt see. 

What though sorrow be thy birthright, 

Smile and sing, 
Roses have their thorns and honey 

Has its sting. 

What though disappointment track thee, 

Never mind. 
Read we upon all life's changes 

God is kind. 

Read we too, the blest assurance 

" Fleeting last. 
Pain and grief and all life's trials 
Soon are past." 



LIFE IS LIKE THE WEATHER. 

Life, sweet friend, is like the weather. 
Rough and pleasant, warm and cold, 

Bright and dark with variations. 
Wonderful and manifold. 



218 THE IlENTURE. 

Every heart must have its winter, 
Every mind its autumn hours, 

That more rich may be its harvests, 
And more gay its time of flowers. 

As when clouds have spent their fullness, 
Nature looks more calmly sweet, 

So our storms of pain and trouble 
Leave us more in faith complete. 

Heaven's attractions would be lessened 
Had we less of trouble here, 

We with earth would hh contented, 
Wishing for no higher sphere. 

And full many a heart now beating 

With a sympathetic thrill 
For the griefs and pains of others, 

Would beat cold and selfish still. 

Learn then thoroughly the lesson, 
Precious as the finest gold, 

Which the changing skies and seasons 
So perpetually unfold. 

Learn that all the days of trial 
We are wont to call adverse, 



THE UENTURE. 219 

Oftener far than we will credit, 
Are entirely the reverse. 

Bear then patiently each sorrow, 

Pain or trouble, care or loss, 
Which our Father adds or mingles 

To your cup or to your cross. 

And as surely as the winter 
. Is succeeded by the spring. 
Or the genial warmth of summer 
Genial autumn harvests bring. 

Up, in bountiful perfection. 

In your heart will quickly grow 

Tender sympathy for others 
In their times of bitter woe. 

Giving that in liberal measure 

To each needy one you meet, 
You will find, whatever your station, 

Life is pleasant, even sweet. 

Heed, therefore, eac;h truth, each lesson 
Taught us by the changing skies, 

And in every dismal prospect 
See some blessing in disguise. 



220 THE UENTURE, 

:SO ADVERSE CHANGE BEYOND THE 

TOMB. 

The moss grows o'er the brick, 

The rust conceals the wire, 
And time and change conflict 

With purpose and desire; 
Trouble pursues our steps, 

And pain afflicts us sore, 
And the bright star of youth , 

Sets low, to rise no more. 

But tho' the moss and rust 

Grow fast and gather thick, 
And time and cruel change 

With our desires conflict, 
The soul, beyond the tomb, 

Shall live when Time is o'er. 
Most gloriously to bk'om, 

Vernal forevermore. 

For trouble, loss and grief 

Belong alone to earth, 
They can not reach us when 

We pass our spirit's birth ; 
And every hope that fades 



THE UENTURE. 221 

And every joy that dies 
Will help to make more blest 
Our home beyond the skies. 



TRUE REST. 

Rest is not turning 
Froni sorrow or care, 

Selfishly spurning 
All burdens to bear. 

Rest is not waiting 
For fortune to smile, 

Gloomily prating 
Of trouble the while. 

Rest is not sitting 
With hands idly clasped, 

Watching time flitting 
Away to the past. 

'Tis earnestly aiming 
Each duty to do. 

For failures ne'er framing 
Ex(!uses untrue. 

'Tis meekly receiving 
What God deemeth best, 



222 THE I/ENTURE, 

Obeying, believing, 
This, this is trice rest. 



THANKSGIVING LINES. 

For life, wonderful mystery 
That animates and moves our frames. 

That makes us objects of Thy love, 
And presses on that love large claims, 

We thank Thee, C), Thou source of life, 
For the rich boon thy hand has given. 

For mortal life, in which to grow 
Meet for the higher life of Heaven. 

For light, that mystery great as life, 
That confluence of etheral streams, 

That flows around us, day and night. 
Through sun or moon or stars mild beams, 

We offer thanks and praise to Thee, 
Tiiou great primeval source of light, 

W^hose bright effulgence shall outshine 
All glories which now greet our sight. 

For friends, those who in weal or woe 
Love, trust us, and believe us true, 

Who bid us hope when grief is sent 
Our hearts to chasten and subdue. 



THE VENTURE. 223 

To Thee, man's first aud truest friend, 
We offer n(»w our thanks, and pray 

Thou wilt, where'er our steps may tend, 
Still be our friend and guide alway. 

For every joy that makes life sweet, 
Or hope that mitigates our woe, 

For all the varied good which Thou 
Hast deigned upon us to bestow, 

We thank Thee, Father, just and wise. 
And while we thank Thee, humbly pray, 

Grant us Thy mercy, love and care 
Long as we tread life's changeful wav. 



THE BIBLE. 

Thou wouldst be wise, wisdom in it is found. 

Wisdom that will endure eternally. 
Thou wouldst have wealth, treasures therein abound, 

Treasures that will enrich supernally. 

Thou seekest purity, here is large store. 
Keep God's c(»mmands and purity is thine. 

Beyond this he requires of us no more, 

Love and obedience are His boundary line. 

Thou longest oftentimes for peace and rest. 
It tells of peace passing all human thought. 



224 THE IlENTURE. 

Of rest in its vast perfectness so blest 

It with the blood of God's dear Son was bought. 

And if for friendship thou dost sadly sigh 

It teaches of a friend ready to be 
Close, close unto thy soul forever nigh, 

And truer than thy truest self to thee. 

Here too, is comfort for the night of grief, 
And counsel for the days of joy and pride, 

Chiding for the dark hours of unbelief. 

When hopes too fondly nursed have drooped and 
died. 

Wisdom and wealth and purity and peace, 

Rest, friendship, counsel, all thy soul requires, 

Worth to enhance or blessedness increase. 

Is here contained, despite both floods and fires. 



WHERE IS CLIFFIE? 

"Where is Cliflie? Where is Cliffier 

Many, many times a day 
In a maze of anxious wonder. 

Questions lonely little May. 
"I have called him, I have sought him. 

But my call and search were vain. 



THE UENWRE. ■ 225 

Papa, Mammaj tell. Oh, tell me 
When will Cliffie come again? 

'* Where is Cliffie ? Aunty tell me, 

Wiiy did he not come with you? 
Has he h»st his cap or mittens? 

Lost his ball or trumpet new? 
Would not uncle help him find it. 

Or has he forgot the way 
That he does not heed my calling. 

Does not come with me to plav? 

'* Every day we played together, 
'And were happy as each bird 
That in spring or summer weather 

Makes its grateful gladness heard. 
In sweet warblings, soft and tender, 

Gay, exultant, shrill and clear. 
Heard till with delight and wonder 
Thrills each listening human ear." 

Pityingly we note her questions. 

Kindly tell her not to cry, 
Gently wipe each pearl-like tear-drop 

From each soulful little eye. 
But the while our hearts are bleeding, 

And our tears are falling fast, 



220 THE I/ENTURE. 

And we ask why buds of promise 
Prematurely droop and blast. 

Ask with anxious, grieving wonder 

Why so much of loss and woe 
Is the portion of God's people 

While they tarry here below ; 
Why their treasures must be hidden 

From their doting eyes away, 
Why for hours of transient pleasure 

They with years of pain must pay. 

Why the child to us as precious » 

As our own life thus should go 
From us ere our love's completeness 

We could in full measure show; 
Go to leave us far more lonely 

Than the bird with rifled nest, 
Than the sweet girl waiting vainly 

For her whilom frequent guest. 

Why the sister 'he so bravely 
Used to champion and defend. 

Used to comfort when some trial 
Rain-like made her tears descend, 

Must with their wee playmate wonder 
And so piteously cry, 



THE I/ENTURE. ■ 22 7 

" Where is CHffie ? I want Cliffie/' 
As the lonely hours go by. 

Why instead of warrc arms twining 
Round her neck, and kisses sweet 

From the pure, soft lips wont often 
" Don't cry, Bertha/' to repeat, 

She can only have, when troubled. 
The poor privilege to turn 

And gaze on the pictured features 
Of the boy for whom we yearn. 

Yet the thought that he is happy, 

And will be forever more 
Safe from sin and every evil, 

That makes up earth's woeful store. 
Is a balm for all our heartache, 

Is a comfort for our grief, 
And faith whispers, "Time is fleeting, 

Separation will be brief." 

So we meekly plead, "Our Father, 

Ever wise and just and kind, 
Let our child, our absent darling. 

Prove a golden tie to bind 
Us to Thee and all things holy, 

Till we too with Thee may dwell, 



228 THE UENTURE, 

And in adoration lowly, 

Sing, 'Thou doest all things well/^' 



TO A ^^EW-BORN INFANT. 

Welcome, helpless little stranger, 
Welcome to our mundane sphere, 

With its darkness and its danger, 
With its light, its warmth, its cheer. 

Welcome to the home death rendered 
Strangely silent and forlorn. 

While in chastened souls he gendered 
Sympathy for all who mourn. 

Welcome, fragile little darling. 
To the hearts so sorely pained. 

By one loss they scarce could notice 
Blessings manifold remained. 

Welcome to their hearts all lonely, 
To that vacant crib and chair. 

They have treasured, they have guarded 
Witli devoted zeal and care. 

Welcome to their mutual fondness, 
Pride and fervent gratitude, 



THE UENTURE. 229 

Fearing, hoping, watching, praying, 
All we call s(»licitude. 

Welcome to the wee girl, longing 

For the elder brother, who 
Was to her so fondly teuder. 

Sympathizing, generous, true. 

Welcome to her childish wonder 

And dev^oted sister-love, 
Which by gentle words and actions 

She delightedly will prove. 

Doubly Avelcome, and if heaven 

Will permit thee, tarry long. 
Adding to earth's store of blessing 

And its upward-pressing throng. 



TO MARY ON HER WEDDING DAY, 

God bless thee on thy wedding day, 

My cherished friend ; 
And ever through life's devious way, 

Thy steps attend. 

May the deep love and trust which thrills 
Thy spirit now, 



230 ■ THE UENTURE, 

Till all thy being freely wills 
A solemn vow, 

Ne'er lose in fervor, but remain 

Deep, warm and true, 
Through calm and storm and joy and pain. 

Life's journey through. 

Others may offer gold and gifts, 

Of costly price 
To be unto thy wedded love 

Preserving spice. 

I only give a woman's love, 

A woman's prayers, 
A woman's pledge to sympathize 

In all thy cares. 

God bless thee I I have said the words 

In days gone by. 
And say them now with quivering lip, 

And tear-moist eye. 

Bless thee ! and help him who has won 

Thy heart and hand. 
And claims the right, close by thy side 

Henceforth to stand. 



THE UENTURE. 231 

To keep with true, religious care 

The solemn vow 
He makes to day to cherish thee, 

Through weal and woe. 



AFTER THE WEDDING. 

It is ended, the solemn service, 
AYhich required but a little time, 

And the blushing maid of the mornincr 
And the man in life's full prime 

Are bound in so close a union 
That division would be a crime. 

It is over, the mirth and feasting, 

The wishes for joy untold 
Are said, and the gifts are given, 

The land, the silver and gold, 
And the guests to their homes have departed, 

And the room is empty and cold. 

And they, the man and the woman, 

Who yesterday were twain, 
Go joyfully forth together 

To share life's pleasure or pain, 
To bear an equal portion 

In each other's loss and gain. 



282 THE IlENTURE, 

Go, another home to fashion, 

Another lamp to light, 
Another doubled influence 

To exert for wrong or right ; 
Go, each to add their portion 

To earth's misery or delight. 

God bless the man and the woman. 
And wherever their steps may tend 

Go lovingly on before them, 

As their Guide and unfailing Friend, 

And keep their love undiminished, 
Until death shall their union end. 









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